


Love or Revenge

by DragonBabe12



Series: Jane Rodgers [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Drama, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Magic, Romance, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 52,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonBabe12/pseuds/DragonBabe12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of killing Dumbledore in his 6th year, Draco Malfoy's mission is to kill a witch his age named Jane Rodgers. Draco has no problem with this, seeing as Jane killed his father. Problem is . . . he has no idea who she is or what she looks like, only her name.</p><p>In an attempt to keep her safe, Dumbledore accepts Jane into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Jane is a girl with an attitude, a HUGE temper, and a dark past. For one, she could technically qualify as Lord Voldemort's daughter. She knows everything he knows about the Dark Arts, but tries to avoid it all. She also has a piece of information Dumbledore needs, another reason that he relocated her to Hogwarts.</p><p>However, Jane is so mysterious that Draco slowly becomes fascinated with her. He has to choose whether to follow orders and gain glory and power, or risk his life for a romantic relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This story contains mild violence and gore, friendship, strong language, awesome characters, ideologically sensitive material, a bit of self harm, epic fights, some sexual tension (but no sex), and it might just be the best story you've ever read. If not we apologize and will refund your money in 3-5 weeks . . . wait a minute, you're reading this for free! Okay, so if you don't like it, I'll just apologize and try to do better. Lol that's all I can give you.
> 
> And now we can begin the story. Read and review please! Thank you in advance!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This story contains mild violence and gore, friendship, strong language, awesome characters, ideologically sensitive material, a bit of self harm, epic fights, some sexual tension (but no sex), and it might just be the best story you've ever read. If not we apologize and will refund your money in 3-5 weeks . . . wait a minute, you're reading this for free! Okay, so if you don't like it, I'll just apologize and try to do better. Lol that's all I can give you.

Jane Rodgers stood in Kings Cross Station, packed with all kinds of people alike. Lots of boys her age, and then some, stared at her as she walked by with their mouths drooling. Her strawberry blonde, waist length hair swayed in time with her hips as she pushed her luggage cart around, looking for platform 9 ¾. Dumbledore had let her enroll in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he'd bought all her school books, her robes, and her other supplies. He paid for her to stay at the Leaky Cauldron, and arranged for a Ministry car to pick her up and take her to the train station, but the one thing he didn't do, the one thing that was most important, was tell her how to get onto the damn platform. All she saw were platforms nine, ten, and a whole lot of Muggles.

It wasn't until her ears picked up a particular conversation that she realized she wasn't the only one running late.

". . . come along, then! Hurry, hurry! We're late for the Hogwarts Express!"

The speaker was a short, plump woman with red hair. Following her was a tall man with thinning, red hair, and four teenagers, three of them appearing to be her age, and one of them younger. Jane's eyebrows knitted together in concentration and she followed the group. When they stopped a few yards from the archway between platforms nine and ten, she stopped too.

"Hermione, you go first. I'll go with Ginny. Arthur, you follow with Ron, and Harry, you come right after," the woman ordered. They lined up as she described and then she said, "Alright, Hermione. Go for it!"

A bushy-haired girl steered her luggage cart toward the barrier. She began to push the cart; running and running she was, until she had vanished straight into the wall.

"Okay, Ginny, us next," the plump witch announced. She took hold of a second girl's cart, the one younger than her, and walked with her. Just when Jane saw them about to crash, a group of people passed by, and once they cleared, they were gone.

"Our turn, Ron," the balding man said. They copied the little girl and the woman, walking towards the stone wall. As the trolley hit the barrier, it went right into it. They kept going, pushing themselves into it until they disappeared. Jane rubbed her eyes, not daring to believe it.

The only one left was a boy with black, wire rimmed glasses and jet black hair. He straightened his cart so it was level with the barrier, and poised to break into a run.

"Hey!" Jane Rodgers called quickly, pushing her cart forward, "Excuse me!"

He swished around to face her, and as he did she noticed his eyes were a piercing but friendly green. For a moment he didn't acknowledge her with words. He simply stared at her with his mouth hanging open and desire in his eyes. Finally he spoke up, "Yes? " he asked.

"Um . . . how did they do that?" she asked, pointing at the barrier.

"Do what?" he asked suspiciously.

"They just . . . vanished at the barrier," maybe she was crazy or something, but she swore that when the others hit the barrier they disappeared into it.

He surveyed her and her luggage, and it wasn't until he noticed her Barn owl, Blythe, in his cage did he smile and ask, "Hogwarts?"

She nodded.

"Are you a first year?"

"No, just going into my sixth,"

"Did you transfer schools or something?" he questioned with a quirk of his brow.

"Uh - you could say that," she guessed.

The boy looked at the watch on his wrist, "We better go, or we're going to miss the train. Just run through the barrier to get onto the right platform. We can go together if you'd like,"

She nodded again and lined her cart next to his.

"On three we run," he told her, "One . . . two . . . three!"

They dashed forward. They were three feet from the barrier. Now one foot. Jane closed her eyes tightly, waiting for her nose to smash right into her brain . . .

But it never did.

"I know it's scary the first time. But you'll get the hang of it sooner or later,"

Jane opened her eyes, and in front of her was a bright scarlet train, the words  _HOGWARTS EXPRESSED_  scrawled onto the side of every cart. She grinned, thanked the boy, and ran off. Jane found an empty compartment at the front of the train and slid her suitcase under the seat. Placing Blythe's cage on her lap, stroking his feathers, she stared out the window and watched kids say goodbye to mothers and fathers, wishing that she had a mom and dad to hug and say goodbye to. The closest thing she had to a parent was the worst, darkest wizard on Earth.

Like  _he_  was going to wish her luck . . .

A loud whistle sounded and the train began to move, "Here we go, Blythe," she told her pet as he squeaked and nibbled at her fingers affectionately, "New school, new teachers, new friends maybe. A new start," she sighed, "Let's try not to screw it up,"

* * *

Another boring ride on the bloody train, another year at the worst school in the world. Draco Malfoy sat alone in a compartment somewhere in the middle of the train. He pulled up the sleeve of his black jacket to reveal a faintly red tattoo; a large skull, with a snake twisting and writhing out of its mouth. He poked at one of the ink lines and winced. Even after a few weeks, it still hurt.

There was a tap on the glass of the window and he looked up. A large, grey owl bobbed up and down outside, a cream colored envelope in its beak. Draco pulled his sleeve back down, stood up, and went to open the window. The bird landed on the red seat and dropped the letter. He picked it up, turning it in his long, pale fingers. It was addressed to him, written in dark purple ink, from his Aunt Bellatrix. With a rustle of its feathers, the grey owl spread its wings and took off. Draco closed the window after it and tore open the letter.

_Dear Draco,_

_This note is to remind you of the task you agreed to this summer. The girl you are looking for is Jane Rodgers, the same one that murdered your father. The Dark Lord wants her gone. She is a danger to everyone, especially our cause. Whatever way you choose to dispose of her is fine, as long as no one knows it is you. Get rid of Jane Rodgers before the end of your school year._

_Good luck, Draco. We know you will not disappoint Him._

_Bellatrix_

He jeered at the piece of parchment. The facts about his father's death were still fuzzy to him. He  _did_  know that he was killed horribly by a girl the same age as him. He'd be  _quite_ glad to get rid of her. Draco stood up and walked out into the hallway. Pushing roughly past second year girls and boys, he made his way to the front of the train where he knew his friends would be. But soon he stopped, looking into the window of another compartment. A girl with long, straight, strawberry blonde hair sat on the plush red seats, holding a Barn owl in its cage and looking at the passing country side. She was extremely beautiful, and he couldn't help but stare at her.

"Malfoy!"

His head whipped around. A boy with dark brown skin and short black hair was motioning to him, standing next to a door leading to another part of the train. He held his finger up, took a last fleeting look at the girl, and walked over to him, "Hey, Blaise,"

"Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle are over there," Blaise told him. Draco knew where he meant and led the way into the next car. It didn't have separate compartments like most of the train. Instead, tables and chairs lined the sides, leaving a narrow hallway in the middle. Along the left side of the car, two tables were put together, and Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were sitting at it. Draco sat down next to Goyle, and was immediately pushed off when he and Crabbe saw the sweets cart.

Blaise laughed and sat down next to Pansy as Draco shook his head in irritation and pulled himself back onto the seat, "Idiot pigs," he muttered.

"What's in your hand?" Pansy, a pale girl with straight, light brown hair and the facial structure of a pug, asked.

He looked down; the letter was still in his palm, "Nothing," he told her, stuffing it back into the envelope and into his pocket.

Suddenly a dark, thick cloud of dust blasted through the car, sending screams, coughing, and stunned muttering into the air. He stood, squinting against the dust and hacking as he searched for the trouble maker.

"What was that?" he asked harshly, "Blaise?"

"Don't know,"

"Relax boys. It's probably just a first year messing around," Pansy suggested.

The glittering fog clouded his vision faintly and he blinked it out of his eyes. He took a step forward, but then Pansy said, "Come on, Malfoy. Sit down. We'll be at Hogwarts soon,"

Draco sighed and sat back down. Starring out the window, the pale boy muttered, "Hogwarts. What a pathetic excuse for a school," he gazed at the two people sitting across from him with a grimace, "Think I'll pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I had to continue for another two years,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pansy asked with a worried expression.

Draco looked out the window again, "Let's just say that I don't think you'll see me wasting my time in Charms Class next year,"

At the sound of Blaise's snicker, he turned his attention to him, "Amused, Blaise?" he asked. Blaise just looked at him with a blank expression. He shook his head and started down at his hands, "We'll see just who's laughing in the end,"

A soft thump above him made Draco look up. His case moved forward in an unnatural way every few minutes. A suspicion popped into his head: Potter. Potter in his Invisibility Cloak. Merlin, he should've known that he'd try and snoop around.

A few hours later the train stopped in Hogsmead. Blaise and Pansy stood, gathering their carry-ons. They waited for Draco to get up, but he made no move to.

"You two go on," he told them, placing his chin in his hand, "I want to check something,"

After the last few people left, Draco took his carryon and went to the door, closing it and pulling the shade down. With a flick of his hand, all the shades in the car covered the windows.

"Didn't mummy ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter?" he whipped around, pointed his want to the luggage rack, and yelled,  _"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Something large hit the ground with a loud BANG. He smirked and, leaning down, he felt something silk-like and wrenched it up. There he was, The Boy Who Lived, laying on the ground, staring up at him and not able to move a muscle in his scrawny body. Draco sneered at the stupid scar on Potter's head and muttered, "Oh, yeah . . . she was dead before you could wipe the drool off your chin," Draco lifted his foot and brought it upon Potter's face, hearing the satisfying crack of broken bones, "That's for my father," he snarled, "Enjoy your ride back to London," he threw the cloak back over Potter, picked his bag up, and walked off the train.

* * *

Jane left her luggage and owl in her compartment and walked into the narrow hallway when the train had stopped. She had no idea what to do next as she hopped onto the platform.

"Jane!"

She turned. A big, hairy man with a lantern jogged toward her. She raised her eyebrow and looked around her, hoping he was talking to another person named Jane. When he strode right up to her, she had to crane her neck to see his face, "Um . . . hi?"

"My name is Hagrid," he told her, as if she asked, "You a'right? Yer to come with me 'cross the lake with the other firs' years. Firs' years, over here! Firs' years!"

Jane simply shrugged. Well, how else was she supposed to get to the castle? She could see all the others students walking through the village, but they knew where the hell they were going. Besides, she hadn't been sorted into a party, or whatever it was called that they divided the students up into.

After the newest students gathered around the him, Hagrid led them off the tiny platform. Following closely behind him, Jane slipped along a steep, narrow path through a forest of trees. The first years buzzed happily and excitedly. Jane often heard whispers about things such as "Gryffindor", "Ravenclaw", "Hufflepuff", and "Slytherin." The later of these words she was fairly familiar with, after hearing it so many times, but the others were new to her. The only one she was aware of fully was Slytherin, and she planned to stay away from that as much as she could. As her luck would have it, however, she highly doubted she could do that.

They turned around a bend, and everyone oooh'd and aaah'd as the path opened to the edge of a big, black lake. A magnificently ancient but well kept castle stood on top of a high mountain on the other side.

"No more 'n four to a boat!" Hagrid yelled, walking to the very edge of the lake where a mass of mid-sized boats bobbed along the water, "Jane, yer ridin' with me!"

Jane nodded and popped herself into one side of a boat while Hagrid sat on the other. The students climbed into the remaining ones, and when everyone was in a vessel he yelled, "FORWARD!" and the boats glided along the water on their own accord, "Heads down!" Everyone lowered their heads as the boats swam underneath a curtain of ivy that led into a dark tunnel. When they docked in an underground harbor and clambered out onto a shore of pebbles, Hagrid checked the boats before leading Jane and the first years up a passageway, his lamp floating eerily in the darkness. They came out of the tunnel to the front doors of the castle. He knocked three times before the great oak doors opened up. A tall woman in a pointed witch's hat, square eyeglasses, and black, flowing robes opened the door.

"Good evening," she greeted, replacing a stray grey hair behind her ear, "I am Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of the school. Please, please, come inside, it's freezing out there,"

Jane hadn't noticed how cold it was outside until the group walked up the steps to the entrance hall and she was flooded with warmth. Other students, the years varying, ran through this hall and another one, which was filled with people sitting at four long tables. The one table facing her horizontally at the end of the hall had teachers and staff members sitting at it.

Professor McGonagall stopped in front of the group and turned to speak to them, "You will stay here with Hagrid until the ceremony begins and everyone has been seated. Professor Flitwick will lead you through the Great Hall to the front of the room, where you will be sorted into your houses. Jane Rodgers, if you will follow me please,"

Jane pushed her way through the first years and followed the teacher into the Great Hall. She felt the eyes of drooling boys and jealous girls follow her. The professor turned left at the staff table and led her into another corridor. Jane froze in the doorway as the first thing she saw was a man with greasy black hair and a flat face.

_Severus Snape._

_He_  was  _here_? Of all the places in the world, why did he have to be  _here?!_

For a second her heart stopped as well. Jane desperately distracted herself by looking for other things in the room. Dumbledore, a man with a long white beard and wearing robes of light blue stood beside Snape and a dreadful looking hat stood on a stool in front of them.

"Good evening, Jane," he said, "There are four Houses in Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. We use this," he motioned to the shabby hat, "To sort the first year students. However, seeing as you are not a first year, we will sort you here,"

Dumbledore picked up the wizard hat and motioned for her to sit. She did so, though hesitantly at being so close to the Snape, and he placed the pointed hat gently atop her head. For the first few minutes, nothing happened. Then she jumped as a small, squeaky voice sounded in her ear.

"Jane Rodgers," the hat spoke quietly, "Jane Rodgers. Hmm. You're going to be a difficult one to place. Reminds me of . . . ah, but I shouldn't say. That is someone else's private business, I should not be telling you. I would say Slytherin. Yes, Slytherin would do you nicely. You've had dark things in your past, I can see. However, you aren't dark like your childhood. You aren't evil, are you?"

_No!_  she mind screamed.

"At least you try not to be. Slipped up a few times, have you? Yes, yes, Slytherin would very well suit you. But you don't want to be in Slytherin, do you?" the hat whispered to her again. Before she got the chance to answer, it said, "I see. I see. Well, there's only one place to put you then,"

Jane snapped her eyes shut, waiting.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Surprise flooded every inch of her body and she opened her eyes, inwardly sighing with relief. She didn't care what house she was in, as long as it wasn't Slytherin. Dumbledore clapped quietly, a smile on his face. Professor McGonagall clapped with him her mouth in a thin like with what looked like a slight curve. Snape stared down at her, baring a vague scowl. Jane glared back.

"Congratulations," Professor Dumbledore told her, "That will be all. Please go to your new House table, Jane. The sorting will be starting soon."

Jane muttered a thank you and hurried out of the room and into the Great Hall. At the far end of the room, scarlet banner bearing a golden lion and the word  _Gryffindor_  hung over a long oak table. She scurried over to it, and just as she sat down a tiny man with white fluffy hair opened the doors to the Great Hall and lead the new twelve-year-olds to the staff table, where Professor McGonagall was placing the sorting hat on its stool. The hat sung a song, and the sorting began, staring with, "Haatis, Kate!"

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat squeaked to the hall. Kate grinned and cut through the crowd to the Ravenclaw table, where the applause was loudest.

"Habitie, Margret!" Professor Flitwick called. A small girl with freckles and frizzy black hair walked up to the stool and sat down. Professor Flitwick placed the hat on her head.

A moment of silence, and then the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table closest to the Gryffindor table cheered and whistled as Margret went to join them.

"Haris, Bella!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Klene, Abita!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Latterdale, Cassidy!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Lawfoot, Summer!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

A bundle of boos sounded from the Gryffindor table as Summer Lawfoot went to join the Slytherin table. The line of first years was considerably short, and dwindled fairly quickly.

"Sizzler, Patricia!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Symone, Royce!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Tyler, James!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Vice, Paige!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Yawnet, Matt!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The sorting was over, and the feast began. Food filled the sparkling gold plates and Jane loaded hers up. Halfway through the feast, she noticed Snape stood from the staff table and stalked out of the hall, returning with the same boy that helped her get onto the platform. He didn't look good; his expression was fierce and blood streamed from his nose. He sat down between the red head boy and the brown haired girl, who both looked shocked. The girl pulled out her wand and said a word that made the blood vanish.

The main course ceased and the puddings appeared. Jane was nibbling on a strange tart when Dumbledore stood. The Great Hall became silent almost immediately.

"The very best of evenings to you!" he called out to the Hall, his voice echoing to the bewitched and candle strewn ceiling above. The students burst into whispers, and it was hard not to know why. He had just raised his arms, like he wanted to hug the room. His right hand looked limp and dead. He smiled and covered the hand with his sleeve, "Nothing to worry about," he said, "Now . . . to our new students, welcome, and to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you . . ."

He launched into his beginning year speech. He told them that the products from a joke shop called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes were banned from the school. People wanting to join the Quidditch teams should sign up with their Head of House. A man named Slughorn, or Professor Slughorn as he now was, was to be the Potions master. This received more murmurs and the echo of the word, "Potions?"

But it was nothing compared to the reaction when Dumbledore announced that Professor Snape was to take the position of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"NO!" someone shouted. Jane looked back; the boy with black hair had a killing look on his face, his fists clenched.

Dumbledore went on, and the whispers diminished. He pressed on about Voldemort, telling the Hall that the defenses around the castle have been strengthened over the summer, and, reminding all the students that, to protect themselves, they should follow the rules that their teachers have set for them, he sent them off to bed.

Jane stood up, picking at her teeth with her fingernail and wondering where she should go. A moment later she decided to follow a group of seventh years up the steps in the entrance hall and through the castle to Gryffindor Tower, which was guarded by a painting of a fat lady in a pink dress.

"Password?" the fat lady asked.

"Dingle berries," one of the seventh years answered. She nodded and the portrait swung open, revealing the threshold to a comfortable looking room. Jane made a mental note to remember the password and followed them into the common room. A fire was blazing in the hearth, surrounded by arm chairs; the whole room was littered with small chairs, tables, and people who weren't tired enough to go to bed.

A few girls passed her by and walked up the stair case to the right. She trudged after them, going by doors that had plaques on them reading  _First Years, Second Years, Third Years_. Jane stopped in front of an oak door with a plaque that read  _Sixth Years_  and opened it.

She guessed that there were three other girls that were sharing the room with her. Three other beds with trunks in front of them stood beside her own. Jane located her suitcase and kicked it open, rummaging around for her Walkman MP3 player. She really needed some music right now, her only way to escape reality. Placing a bud in each year, she switched on the player. What came through the head phones was a loud amount of static. The volume increased and decreased uncontrollably. The player kept turning on and off. Songs went flying back and forth without her pressing the buttons. She frantically took a pin out of her hair and slammed it into the hole of the reset button, but it did no good.

"It won't work,"

Jane turned. The girl with bushy brown hair had just entered, holding a chubby, bow-legged orange cat.

"Obviously," Jane snapped. She turned off the player and threw it back into her trunk.

"Because, according to  _Hogwarts: A History_ , Hogwarts is so magical that anything electronically powered goes haywire within a mile of the castle."

Great, so one of her roommates was a Know-It-All.

The girl set down her cat and closed the door. Settling herself on the red bed spread of the bed beside Jane, she said, "I'm Hermione Granger. Who are you?"

"Jane Rodgers,"

"You're new here?"

"Clearly,"

"Well, welcome to Hogwarts,"

"Thanks,"

Two more girls came into the room, giggling behind their hands. They stopped dead at the sight of Hermione and Jane, looking back and forth between the two, "Who are you?" one asked, pointing an accusing finger at Jane.

"Jane," she answered, falling back upon her four-poster.

"She's a new student," Hermione explained.

"Then how come she isn't a first year," the other girl questioned.

"Do I look twelve to you?"

"This is Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil," Hermione introduced.

Pavarti had big brown eyes, brown skin, and long black hair. Lavender had crimped, light brown hair and a chubby pink face. Both of them looked at Jane with jealousy, eyeing her perfectly heart-shaped face, full lips, and hair that looked like it had come out of a commercial. Jane rolled her eyes and laid down, staring up at the ceiling.

"Well . . . um . . . hi, Jane," Pavarti attempted to be friendly. Lavender didn't bother; she whispered something to her friend and then bounced onto her bed, closing the curtains around it.

This was going to be a long year.

 


	2. Draco's Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters' thoughts, flashbacks, and Parseltongue will be written in italics. All notes given to characters will be in block quote format.
> 
> Also, the conversation between Blaise, Pansy, and Draco at the end is not mine. It belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers (from the movie, not the book.)
> 
> AND in my defense, I did not read The Order of the Phoenix well enough, because I thought that Lucius had died in the Department of Mysteries, which did not happen. My story goes off of my assumption that Lucius had died, but not in the Department of Mysteries. You will discover his death later on in the story.

Jane woke up the next morning with a moan. She sat up, yawned, and stretched out her arms and back. Noticing that Lavender and Pavarti had already left, and that Hermione had her robes on, brushing her hair, she reached out and pulled her clothes out of her trunk and pulled the curtain aside.

Don't think I've ever felt fabric this soft, she thought as she slipped the black T-Shirt on, a Gryffindor colored plaid tank top, and a black miniskirt. Jane parted the curtains and stepped to the full length mirror on the left side of the room. It was nice to have clothing that didn't have holes, and to not be digging through dumpsters and lost and found for them.

As she pulled a pick comb through her hair, Hermione left. Jane opened her suitcase, wondering what supplies should go in her bag when she returned.

"Do you wanna come to breakfast with me and my friends?" she asked kindly. Jane nodded, and she followed Hermione down the staircase to the common room, to a table close to the portrait hole where her friends were. They were talking in low voices, but looked up as the girls approached.

"Hermione, I've got loads to tell you!" the black-haired boy proclaimed, and then he caught sight of her company. He had a deja vu moment of when he first saw her on the platform, a sort of dumbfounded trance. The red haired boy, however, had his brown eyes half closed and a bit of drool on his chin.

"Boys, this is Jane," Hermione said, "Jane, this is Ron Weasley," she motioned at the red-haired boy, "And Harry Potter," she pointed at the black haired boy.

Jane didn't react with enthusiasm like she assumed most people would. She'd heard about the famous Boy-Who-Lived from her classmates in other schools and in a few wizard newspapers and books she read. She tried to keep herself from flicking her eyes upward; he probably had billions of people looking at the blemish every day and was annoyed of it by now.

"Nice to meet you," she choked.

"You too," Ron and Harry said together, although Ron's words were slurred.

"Jane's going to eat with us," Hermione stated. She cast Jane a curious and somewhat threatened look as she shook their arms, trying to snap them out of their trance. Harry blinked a few times and shook his head.

"Great," Harry said, standing up, "Let's go down then, shall we?" when Ron didn't get up with him, he yanked his friend's arm up and slapped him upside the head. Ron snapped out of his own daze the same way Harry did.

Jane followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione out of the portrait hole and towards the Great Hall. On the stair case leading to the Entrance Hall, three people climbed up toward them; a very pale boy with white blonde hair, flanked by two large, troll-like boys. The pale one looked up and stopped dead in his tracks, his lazy gaze roaming her body as a wolfish grin captured his mouth. She had to admit, he was pretty good looking himself. As they came to the same level, the boy leaned in close to her, his sensual lips in Jane's ear and his warm breath tickling her neck, "Hey beautiful . . . that is your name, right?"

"Move it, Malfoy,"

Ron's shoulder collided hard with the boy's shoulder, pushing him back. He glared at Harry, Ron, and Hermione and, giving one last adoring look at Jane, he pushed his friends past her and up the stairs.

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked as the four of them sat at the Gryffindor table, "He couldn't keep his eyes off you, Jane,"

Jane shrugged, piling eggs and bacon onto her plate and secretly hoping to see more of the boy Ron had called Malfoy.

"What are we doing again?" Goyle asked, following Draco down a corridor. Draco rolled his eyes; they both asked the question several times, and every time he refused to tell them. His mission was to be done alone - but you could never have too many look outs.

"It's my business, Goyle, I've told you already," he retorted, "Do you know where the school files are?"

They looked stupidly at him, drool dribbling off their bulky chins. Draco slapped his forehead with his hand and muttered, "Of course you don't. Why can't they invent a potion to give people brains? You two would need a life time supply each."

"They could be in Dumbledore's office," grunted Crabbe.

"Crabbe, that's the stupidest -" Draco cut himself off, realizing what his friend had said, and replied," Actually, that's not such a bad idea. Come on, you two, let's go,"

The three of them ended up in front of a large stone gargoyle, one Draco had seen many teachers and Potter pass through.

"Sherbet Lemon," he said in his drawling voice. This was the password, or at least it had been. They must have changed it, because the statue didn't move. He repeated the password again, and again the statue failed to leap aside.

"They must have changed the password," Goyle claimed.

"Obviously," Draco added harshly.

The bell rang for the first class of the day. Draco decided he would have to try again later.

A few hours later Draco sat at one of the four tables in his Potions class. He was one of the only four Slytherin students that were able to get in, much to his contempt. Beside him was Blaise Zabini.

"Merlin, class hasn't even begun yet and I'm already bored," Blaise groaned, throwing his head back and staring up at the dungeon ceiling. Draco agreed silently, but his mind was on other things he would not yet distribute to his acquaintance. More students filed in, among them being Potter, his stupid friend Weasley, and the Mud Blood Granger. He and Potter exchanged a hateful glare before he spoke to the only Hufflepuff in the room.

"How badly do you want to kill him?" he heard Blaise asked.

"He's not mine to kill," Draco replied smoothly, his grey eyes burning holes into the Chosen One's head.

The dungeon door opened with a loud creak and in came the new Potion's teacher: Slughorn. The man resembled a walrus, with a large mustache that curled around his mouth and a belly bigger than bridge troll's. Draco snickered - this bloke was supposed to be teaching them? This bloke was supposed to be the new head of Slytherin? Oh, how horrifyingly preposterous.

The students filled the tables topped with cauldrons. The Slytherins all sat at one table in the back. Four Ravenclaws took up a long wood table in front of them. Potter, his friends, and the Hufflepuff took the table next to them.

"Now then, now then, now then," Slughorn announced, "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making . . ."

Potter raised his hand to complain neither he nor Weasley had the sufficient tools for the class. Seriously? Even Draco himself had all the required materials.

Slughorn took his sweet time situating Potter and Weasley with ingredients and textbooks and what not, in which time Draco shot a few snarky comments to Granger. Then Slughorn lumbered to the front of the class.

"First thing's first," he bellowed, taking up a thick sheet of parchment and a quill, "Role call. Boot, Terry?"

A boy from the Ravenclaw table raised his hand in enthusiasm, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"Ah, very good, my boy. Cornfoot, Stephen?"

Another boy from the Ravenclaw table.

"Nice to meet you. Davis, Tracy? There you are, yes. Goldstein, Anthony. Heard wonderful things about you. Can't wait to work with you. Granger, Herm-oh-nini? What? That's not right? Oh, Hermione? Ah, yes, that's it. Li, Su? Macmillan, Earnie?"

Macmillan raised his hand, "Right here, sir. And let me say, sit, what a pleasure it is to be learning from you, sir,"

"Glad to hear it, Mr. Macmillan,"

"Suck up," Draco muttered under his breath. Blaise chortled.

"Malfoy, Draco?"

There were many snickers at his first name. Draco rolled his silver eyes and lazily put his hand up. Slughorn continued with his short list of names, until . . .

"Rodgers, Jane?"

Draco tensed considerably. His eyes scanned the dark dungeon room for the person the name belonged to. No one raised their hand.

"Rodgers, Jane?" Slughorn called out, "Rodgers? No? Well, alright then," and he marked her absent.

The majority of the lesson passed in an aggravated blur. Slughorn showed them some potions before setting them off on a competition to make the best Draught of the Living Death. Winner got a tinny bottle of luck potion. Hardest as Draco tried, however, he couldn't seem to get his potion to be deadly enough. The ingredients were extremely specific, the directions hard to follow. Many times he tried to get on Slughorn's good side, who seemed to take an immediate liking to Potter. He often spoke about relatives the professor might have known, only to be half ignored.

Potter, however, was having no trouble with the assigned potion. Even Granger, the best in all subjects, was having problems with her brewing. But Potter of all people? Above Granger? He had to be cheating.

Draco was having difficulty even concentrating at the moment. Being in this ridiculous class was making him ill. He raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, how may I be of assistance?"

"Might I go to the lavatories, Professor?"

"Certainly, my boy, certainly," Slughorn replied in his gruff voice. Draco waited until his back was turned before sweeping his belongings into his bag and leaving the room, planning on not returning.

The only sound in the empty castle corridors were his footsteps thudding on the stone floor. His face was red with frustration and his hands were fisted in the pockets of his robes.

No longer did he have the pleasure that came with his father knowing everyone in the Ministry. Draco was not well known or wealthy as he once was. When his father was alive, everyone knew the name Draco Malfoy. Now he and his mother were nobodies, while Potter was getting every special treatment known to witch and wizard for being "The Chosen One."

Oh yes, Potter was definitely milking this "Chosen One" thing for all it was worth. The entire wizarding world had their attention on him. Draco couldn't decide who he hated more: Harry-Effing-Potter or Jane Rodgers.

The wing of a giant stone gargoyle caught his eye and he stopped. Glancing to make sure there was no one nearby, Draco approached the hidden entrance.

"Sherbet Lemon," he repeated for the seventh time, his hand pressed to his forehead. Still the statue refused to move.

"Okay, Draco, come on. You can figure this out," he muttered to himself, "You have to figure this out. This is important."

This was indeed important. If Draco Malfoy failed to complete this murderous task, he and his mother and perhaps anyone else associated with him would be annihilated.

He paced up and down the hallway, his hand rubbed his chin. There could be thousands of possibilities for the old headmaster's password. In the past Dumbledore had used candy names, both wizard and muggle alike.

"Lemon drop?" he asked the gargoyle, but the hunk of stone failed to move an inch, "Chocolate Frog? Pumpkin Pasties? No? Okay, um . . ."

He heard footsteps coming towards him. Draco took a few steps away from the statue and leaned up against the wall. The girl he'd met on the stairs, the one with Potter, rounded the corner. A smirk lit up his pointed features.

"Hey babe, are you using a Confundus charm, or are you just naturally mind blowing?"

The drawling voice dispersed her thoughts. Jane turned to see the tall, lean boy with white blonde hair behind her: Malfoy. His back was pressed against a stone wall next to, ironically, a Slytherin banner, his wand twirling like a baton between his pale fingers.

"Wizard pick up line," Jane noted with slight amusement, "Haven't heard one of those in a while,"

"Then clearly you don't spend enough of your time in the company of wizards," Malfoy responded, "Like muggles, do you?"

Jane could hear the obvious disgust for non-wizard humans. What was wrong with them exactly? She found them to be no higher or lower in status than wizards and witches, despite what had been drilled in her head since birth.

"They're okay," she answered simply.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and groaned under his breath, earning an annoyed countenance from Jane. Then his expression switched to smooth and too-cool-to-care, "I'm Malfoy,"

Jane smirked, her eyes narrowing. What was she to make of him? Malfoy was hot, that's for sure. Extremely hot. An image of herself wrapped in his arms crossed her mind for a brief second. However, his attitude was atrocious. She had an urge to slap him every time he opened his mouth, "Well, Malfoy, I don't know whether to say 'nice to meet you' or 'fuck you,'"

He snickered, peering at her with eyes that were a hundred shades lighter than hers, "How about you tell me your name, instead?"

Jane didn't want to tell him her name. She was truly having a normal teenage experience with a boy - not that she hadn't had one before. While she had the advantage, she wanted to play mystery girl, hard to get. He looked up to the challenge. Thankfully the bell rang for the end of morning classes. Smirking at him, Jane disappeared into the crowds emerging from their classrooms.


	3. Smoke Rings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters' thoughts, flashbacks, and Parseltongue will be written in italics. All notes given to characters will be in block quote format.
> 
> Also, Dumbledore's speech is not mine. It belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Friends were not something Jane excelled at making, not by a long shot. She'd always been the loner type. It was kind of hard to make friends, anyway, considering the attitude she had not yet shown these three and with being on the run so much. Why bother making friends in the first place?

So it surprised her and made her feel awkward when she actually had someone to talk to. Surprised because it felt so natural to hang around Hermione, and sometimes Harry, and Ron, but it was awkward because the three were so exclusive, like a group of popular girls at a muggle high school. They were very secretive and closed off from everyone else. She'd only spent a few weeks with them, and it felt like she was intruding. So, most of Jane's free time was spent touring the castle and the grounds.

On a nice September day, during a class she didn't feel like attending, Jane chose to sit in a secluded little courtyard with a cigarette she'd managed to smuggle in. It felt nice, not having to keep looking over her shoulder for Death Eaters, or wondering how she was going to eat that night or where she would sleep. For once she felt . . . mostly safe. There was always that lingering chill of doubt that something could happen at any moment. Something bad.

During her break, Draco happened to be in the area when the smell of smoke hit him. His immediate thought was that something was on fire. There was no crackling that normally accompanied flame, however, and the smoke had a light tobacco scent to it. Draco followed the wispy stuff through the hall to the outdoor courtyard, where Jane sat on a stone bench facing the Quidditch pitch and half a cigarette in hand.

He was stunned for a minute by the sight of the gorgeous teenage witch, smoking of all things. Her back was to him, her long hair rippling in the light breeze. Every once in while she brought the white paper roll to her perfect rosy lips and took a drag, her posture relaxing a little each time she did so. The sight was almost hypnotic. Turning on his bad boy charm, he swaggered up behind her and leaned in to her ear, "Hmm, twice I get to see you alone. Either this is a coincidence or I'm a very lucky guy,"

The girl turned and graced him with the presence of her dark grey eyes. She scooted back from him a tad, seeing as he was so close, and pursed her lips together, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"Come to check out the new girl?" she asked coolly.

"Maybe," he admitted, "You definitely are an object of gossip."

It was true. All the sixth years were whispering about the girl that randomly transferred into their year. It wasn't something done at Hogwarts.

"Lovely," she muttered, turned off.

"So you actually smoke?" he asked, sitting beside her. The bench was so small that their legs touched.

"Yeah, so what?" she asked. Judging by his expression, she added, "Wizards do it too. I know they do,"

"But cigarettes?" he accused, "It's just so . . . muggle,"

The next time she had a mouthful of smoke, she blew it directly in his face, making him cough.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?" she asked.

"Aren't you?" he countered.

The girl smirked, "Ditching. Needed some time alone."

"And how's that working out for you?"

"Not very well, seeing as you're here,"

He took the hint, "I've got better things to do, anyway," he stood and began to walk the other direction, but stopped and turned back, "Hey, you didn't tell me your name,"

She took a final drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out with the toe of her black boot, "That's right, I didn't,"

At lunch time she made her way to the Grand Hall, where she found Hermione already at the long Gryffindor table. She sat beside her and began filling a plate with food, "Hey, how was Runes?"

"Amazing," she exclaimed, looking up from her textbook, "There's so much to learn and so little time. I wish the classes were longer,"

Jane ate as Hermione talked her ear off about Runes and her teacher, nodding occasionally. Eventually Harry and Ron joined them. As they walked in their direction, they seemed to be arguing about something. Jane heard the name Malfoy come up. It gave her heart and stomach a mini jolt.

"I'm telling you, Malfoy is up to something!" Harry insisted, sitting across from Jane. Ron placed himself in front of Hermione, who closed her book immediately upon their presence.

"Harry, it's the first day back. Can we not talk about Malfoy, please?" Hermione begged.

"Yeah give it a rest man," Ron agreed.

"But Hermione, he's always sneaking around -"

"Who exactly is Malfoy?" Jane interrupted, taking a sip of pumpkin juice and nearly spitting it out. Whoever decided to make it a drink was an idiot. Pumpkin juice? Really? Whatever happened to soda?

Harry was the first to answer, his voice dripping with disdain and spite, "Draco Malfoy -"

"Draco?" Jane asked incredulously.

Harry nodded, "That's his first name. Stupid name, really. He's a spoiled and arrogant bully, thinking he's better than everyone because he's pure blood,"

"His father was Lucius Malfoy, who had a high social status with the Ministry and the Prime Minister," Ron added.

Lucius Malfoy? The name sounded familiar, but Jane couldn't put a face to it.

"Not to mention he's rude, vindictive, hostile, narcissistic, and a major player," Hermione noted.

"Sounds like ya'll don't like him," Jane said.

Ron glanced at her with a weird expression, "Ya'll?"

"Substitute for 'you all'," she explained.

The ginger haired boy stared at her a moment longer before shaking his head, "Bloody American slang,"

Jane ignored him, "Okay Harry, so what  _do_  you think he's up to?"

"Don't encourage him," Hermione warned. Harry narrowed his eyes in at Jane in an analyzing way.

"Come on, you can trust me," Jane reassured.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair, "I don't know. But it has to be something dark, doesn't it? I mean, he's one of them, isn't he?"

"Harry, Malfoy is not a Death Eater," Hermione disagreed.

"A Death Eater?" It wasn't a question of 'What's a Death Eater?' It was more of an out loud wondering. Wizards and witches this young couldn't be Death Eaters, right?

"Yes, a Death Eater. A Death Eater is one of -"

"I  _know_  what a Death Eater is. I'm not  _stupid_ ," Jane snapped, "Malfoy can't be a Death Eater. I know who all the Death Eaters are, he isn't one of them,"

This statement brought undivided attention upon her.

"How do  _you_  know that?" Ron asked distrustfully.

Oh  _fuck_. She was  _not_  supposed to say that.

Jane gulped, trying to think of some quick way to distract them, "S-So, um, why do you think he's a Death Eater, Harry?"

Ron and Hermione groaned. That did it.

"We followed him and his mother down to Nocturne Alley and saw some kind of initiation in Borgen and Burkes,"

"That's not what it was, Harry," Hermione said.

"How do you know it wasn't?"

"How do you know it was?"

"Uh, aren't we supposed to be going to Defense Against the Dark Arts by now?" Ron asked, hoping to change the subject.

* * *

The Half Blood Prince. That was all Jane heard for the last week. From what she heard, Harry got an old text book that belonged to someone named the Half Blood Prince. The inside of the book was covered in handwriting, specifically additional notes to potion brewing and some spells that "weren't in approved text books" as Hermione said.

Jane sat by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, listening to the three argue of the book owner's identity. She rolled her eyes. Who cared? Harry got lucky with a book full of cheats. He needed to be happy and get over it.

The heat of the fire relaxed her, making the young witch's eyes droop. Jane yawned and curled up in the red arm chair, preparing for sleep and dreams.

_Her dream was fuzzy and blurry, like she was trying to walk after spinning on a merry-go-round for an hour. She was in a dark room lit by a tiny fire in an intricately carved fireplace. Blocking most of the fire's light was a dark blue, almost black chair. Behind her she could see the outlines of a dresser with unknown contents occupying its surface. Those were the only things in the small room._

_Despite the fire, it was quite chilly here. The darkness pressed in around her, pulsing and contracting. She could hear nothing_ _,_ _a_ _bsolutely nothing_ _, n_ _ot even the crackling of the flames. The silence would be the death of her._

_Then she did hear something. Two somethings actually. The first was a hushed_ _,_ _slithering sound. This did not scare her. What scared her was the second something. It was a voice. A cruel, haunting voice as charming as a snake. It spoke to her, echoing off the walls and sending terrifying chills down her spine._

_"Jane," it sung, softly and lowly at first, growing in volume each time her name was spoken, "Jane,"_

_She was unable to speak or move. The blurring vision was making her extremely dizzy. It did not mix well with the unsettling convulsions of her stomach and the sheer panic rising in her throat._

_"Jane," it whispered, "Jane, where are you?"_

_At last she felt her throat clear, and was able to speak once before the panic crashed back down upon her._

_"V-Voldemort," she stuttered._

_He didn't appear to hear her, continuing with his malicious cooing, "Jane, come back,"_

_The Dark Lord's voice grew steadily louder, still echoing but feeling as though he was directly behind her. The slithering, she noticed, was louder as well_ _, b_ _ut she couldn't turn around to see what it was._

_"Come back," Voldemort whispered, "Come to me. I need you, Jane. Come back,"_

The next thing she knew, Jane was looking up at the high ceiling of the Gryffindor Tower with Hermione shaking her shoulder. The nasty and fearful sentiments were gone, replaced with relief and calmness that came with waking up from a nightmare. By Hermione's expression, she had no idea that Jane just had anything but a peaceful sleep.

"Sorry," she whispered, "But its past midnight and I thought you'd be more comfortable in your bed,"

"Actually, it's much better down here," Jane disagreed, "I don't have to listen to Pavarti snore or Lavender mumble in her sleep," she yawned, "Besides, I'm not really tired anymore,"

"Do you mind if I stay here with you then?"

Jane nodded and swung her hand towards an empty arm chair, which Hermione sank into gratefully. Jane glanced to the fireplace that now held nothing but ashes and orange glowing embers.

"Do me a favor though," Jane returned her attention to her, "I don't want to hear anything about the Half Blood Prince, okay? It's getting to be an annoying topic of conversation."

"Trust me, I know," she huffed, "Harry and I had a row about it a few hours ago. To be honest, I need a break from the both of them,"

"Harry and Ron?" Jane asked with a raised eyebrow, "But they're your friends,"

"Yes, but it gets a tad tiresome with them. They talk about nothing but Quidditch, and Death Eaters, Professor Snape, Malfoy, and . . . Voldemort,"

She seemed strained with saying the Dark Lord's name. Hermione gazed at Jane for a reaction. A wince, a flinch, anything. But she had no change in expression or posture, despite her recent nightmare.

"Getting used to saying the name?"

"It's a little hard," Hermione admitted.

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, you know,"

Hermione chuckled, "Heard me say that quite a bit, have you?"

"Yes, quite,"

* * *

"You  _still_  haven't found her yet?"

"I've been preoccupied,"

Draco stood in Severus Snape's new gloomy office. Why? He didn't know why. But Draco suspected that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher wanted a free ride on his mission, to soak up the credit Draco would earn from killing his target.

Snape leaned against his desk, his oily black hair hiding most of his disappointed expression, "What exactly do you have to be distracted about?" he hissed.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, "Oh, I don't know, let's see: I've got loads of homework, classes, I've got Prefect duties, and Quidditch practice . . . oh yes, lots of things to get distracted about,"

Snape shook his head, dumbfounded, "Quit Quidditch. You're a terrible Seeker, and the Slytherins might win a game with you off the team,"

"Thanks for that," Draco jeered, "Got anymore inspiring sentiments?"

"How hard can it be to find her?"

"Very hard. Do you know how many girls are in this bloody school? I didn't even know her name until Bellatrix told my mum that dad was murdered!"

"Might you allow me to be of assistance -?"

"No," Draco interrupted, "This is my task. The task the Dark Lord gave me. Me, of all people. Not you," he started to walk out of the professor's office, "I'll find her myself,"

He walked straight to the dungeons without picking on a kid or taking any detours. The light of the torches flickered off the stone walls as Draco approached a dead end. His hand swept across the wall's grainy texture as he whispered the password to the Slytherin common room. It split open and he entered.

The glow of the green orbs hanging above his head instantly calmed him. There were very few students in the common room: A fifth year boy and girl sat by the fire, sucking face, and a third year girl was trying to cheat on her homework, and doing a terrible job of it. Draco sighed and dropped his bag by the entrance before stretching out on a dark green velvet sofa.

His thoughts were so thick that he didn't notice that Pansy Parkinson came in and had called his name a few times. He practically jumped out of his skin when he suddenly felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Finally," she scoffed, "I've been trying to get your attention, like, forever,"

"Sorry," Draco muttered. He made no move to make room for her on the sofa, but she didn't seem to care. Pansy sat on the arm of the couch, brushing his hair from his eyes and rubbing his arms and shoulders.

"Wanna go somewhere?" she asked, "I could really use a butter beer right now,"

"We're not allowed to go into Hogsmead just yet," he reminded her in a dull voice.

"So?"

She had a point.

"Come on, Malfoy. Please?" she whined, planting a light kiss on his pale forehead, "Just the two of us?"

Draco thought he could use a butter beer too, more or less.

 


	4. Gryffindor Quidditch Try-Outs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters' thoughts, flashbacks, and Parseltongue will be written in italics. All notes given to characters will be in block quote format.

The classes, according to everyone but Jane, were the most difficult they ever had. Homework was given to the sixth years every day, which she spent the majority of her breaks doing, and they were expected to master non-verbal spells. Jane found the classes to be fairly easy, however. She completed all the work with ease, and she knew the required non-verbal spells like the back of her hand. Regardless, Jane was not the best in her subjects. Often times she failed to turn in assignments and ditched classes. She would leave the good grades to Hermione.

On the morning of the Gryffindor's Quidditch tryouts, the four of them headed off to the pitch after breakfast. Jane and Hermione watched from the stands as what seemed to be over half of the student body try and grasp for Harry's attention.

"Half of these guys aren't even from our house!" Jane complained.

"It's because he's being called 'The Chosen One.'" Hermione explained, "He's even more of a big deal than he once was."

"Hey, you!" Jane pointed at a boy with a Hufflepuff badge on his chest, "You're not a Gryffindor. Get out."

"You can't tell me what to do," the boy argued.

"But I can," Hermione pointed to the silver Prefect badge pinned to her own robes, "Now leave,"

Grudgingly, the Hufflepuff boy pouted and dismounted the stands.

If it wasn't enough, most of the students trying out weren't even Gryffindor either. It annoyed Jane, and by the look on Harry's face, he felt the same. One by one, with a hundred rejects in between, the final members of the team went up into the stands to watch the rest of the tryouts. When it came time to choose the Keeper, the stands were almost full. Hermione and Jane squished together between a band of giggling third year girls and a seventh year Ravenclaw who stared admiringly at Jane.

Seven Gryffindors were left on the pitch. Jane recognized no one but Ron and a masculine, broad chested seventh year named Cormac McLaggen. The first five failed to save more than two goals, leaving the two people she knew to compete for the position.

McLaggen shot up to the goal post. From the five goals he was required to save, he got four. The last one came his way, and he was ready for it, eyes focused and hands in the proper position.

_"Confundo,"_

McLaggen unexpectedly jerked to the right and the quaffle went through the lowest goal post. Jane looked to her side as the crowd laughed and booed, because it was Hermione's voice that whispered the charm.

"What did you do that for?" Jane whispered.

"Do what?" Hermione asked, clapping politely. Seeing the way her light brown eyes locked onto Ron and his green, nervous face, she dropped the subject, but nudged her in the side. Hermione's cheeks flushed.

As Ron slid on his broomstick for his turn, a voice shouted, "Good luck!"

A couple yards away Lavender Brown hid her red face in her hands while Pavarti giggled next to her. Jane turned back to Hermione. Her eyes had fallen to her lap, an irritated frown pulling at her lips.

To everyone's surprise, and McLaggen's rage, Ron saved all five goals. Hermione squealed and dragged Jane to the pitch. She threw her arms around the new Catcher, who looked relieved and utterly proud.

Harry set the time of the first practice as the stands drained of students. Lavender sullenly walked to the exit with Pavarti tailing her. Romilda Vain, a girl deeply interested in Harry, hung around with her friends hoping for the chance to talk to him.

And in the very top stand in the Slytherin section sat Draco Malfoy.

During the tryouts, Jane had seen no other Slytherins besides him. Curiosity overtook her; she said goodbye to Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they went off to see the Care of Magical Creatures professor, Hagrid. Then she made her way up the stands to him.

Draco was hunched over, elbows rested on his knees and chin held in his hands. He stared unseeingly at the green turf with a blank expression.

"Come to check out the competition?" Jane called two rows below him.

He blinked a few times before bringing his light grey eyes down on her. A confident smirk lit up his expression and he leaned back from his tense pose, "Maybe I am. What's it to you?" he replied coolly.

"Well, I am a Gryffindor, and I'm friends with Harry Potter . . . perhaps I'll let him know the Slytherins have been spying on their practices?"

Draco let out a dark laugh, as if the idea were ludicrous, "Tell that mudblood loving weasel anything you like. Their team is pathetic, and they won't stand a chance against the Slytherin Quidditch team,"

"Someone's a little cocky, aren't they?"

"Hard not to be when you're that good,"

Jane rested against the railing of the stairs with her arms crossed. Draco stood and slowly made his way down the few steps there were between the top level and where she stood.

"So. Do you play?" she asked, turning in his direction.

"Depends. You interested in Quidditch players?"

"I don't care either way. But let's say I am interested. Do you play?"

A light breeze picked up, blowing his hair into his face and his gorgeous eyes. His long, pale fingers brushed the stands away as he answered, "I play Seeker,"

"See, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" she mocked, "Okay, so what are you really doing here?"

"Why so interested? Think I'm stalking you?"

"The possibility did come to mind. That and you're the only Slytherin here. It's a little strange,"

"If you say so,"

"You're a little strange too,"

He gave her an offended look, "Strange?  _Me?_  No."

"It's true. I've heard many things about you,"

"What kind of things?"

"Oh, I'm sure you don't want to hear it. Just a bunch of gossip,"

In a swift movement, he had her trapped between him and the railing, his hands gripping the bar close to her hips. This position felt dangerous and made her nervous, yet it was oddly pleasurable. There was hardly three inches of space between them. Jane felt heat building on the back of her neck and her cheeks. What the hell was he thinking?

She looked up at his face, surprised to see his expression was serious, with no hint of an ego. Not even at the fact that he had her in his grasp.

"Tell me," he demanded, his drawling voice soft.

Jane tried to keep her cool as she spoke, despite her heart hammering in her chest. She told him about the Slytherin girls and a few Ravenclaw girls that fancied him quite severely. She told him about the younger students that thought him a bully. And she told him about Harry's dislike for him, which was common knowledge. As spoke more and more, the usual smirk slowly returned. He began to notice just how close he was to her, and felt himself leaning toward her.

"Seems like you're plugged into the school's gossip,"

"It's not hard. You just gotta have an open ear and you'll hear all kinds of juicy secrets,"

"I think you deserve a reward for being such a good listener,"

Jane snorted, "Like what?"

"Like . . . a kiss?"

"A kiss?" she asked in a sarcastic tone, "Sounds more like a reward for you than me,"

Before he could get any closer to her, she ducked under the railing and out of his reach. Jane made her way to the grounds. On her way she heard a low whistle behind her. Looking back, Draco stared at her with the wolfish of expressions.

_Pig_ , she thought.

 


	5. Revelation

It was in a transfiguration class two weeks later that Draco finally learned the name of his mystery girl. Within those two weeks, he hadn't learned much about her. She was such an enigma that he was compelled to take an interest in her. The only thing he knew about this girl was that she was American, she liked to smoke, and she as going to be tough to catch.

But he was up for a challenge.

Although it was a month into the semester, Draco had been transferred into a different class. He now went to the class on a Friday, and once more he shared this class with Blaise. Later on in the day, he also realized Pansy would be in the class too, and, sadly, Potter, Weasley, and Granger.

The class became suddenly more interesting, however, when he strolled into the class with Blaise at his side and saw the girl sitting alone in the front of the room.

"Damn," Blaise muttered, "That's one fine looking girl,"

"And she's mine," Draco added, surprised to find a hint of possessiveness in his voice.

"She the girl you've been hung up on the last month?"

"Yes,"

"And you still don't know her name? Pathetic,"

"Shut up. Warn me when Pansy's coming. I don't want her to scare her off,"

Draco strutted towards her and peered over her shoulder. She was humming a small tune and scrawling on a piece of parchment with . . .

"What is  _that?"_  he inquired.

The unexpected sound of his voice failed to make her jump. She turned towards him, holding in her hand what appeared to be a stick of wood with an eraser on the top and a black substance on the tip that made marks on her paper.

"A pencil," she answered, "Much more efficient than ink. And less messy."

"Another stupid muggle utensil?"

She rolled her eyes and went back to her writing, "What are you doing here, anyway? You're not in this class,"

"Actually, I am," he corrected, "Just got transferred,"

"Fantastic," she stated with over exaggerated sarcasm.

At that moment Potter, Weasley, and Granger walked into the class room, followed by Professor McGonagall. Granger plopped down next to the girl.

"Don't tell me you hang out with mudbloods too?" he groaned.

Granger had no reaction, but the girl jeered at him, "I ought to punch you for that one,"

"You couldn't hurt me even if you tried."

"That is quite enough. Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall interrupted, coming between him and the girl, who had risen out of her chair with her fist clenched, "To your seat now. Class is about to start."

The door of the large class room swung open and another student entered. The student, a third year Hufflepuff, ran up to McGonagall and handed her a note.

"For Jane Rodgers. Professor Dumbledore wants to see her right away,"

Halfway to his seat, Draco froze.

Jane Rodgers?

_Here?_

"Well, Ms. Rodgers, you heard him. To Dumbledore's office you go,"

And then he felt his stomach drop out of his body when his mystery girl got up to claim the note.

* * *

What the  _hell_  was his  _problem?!_  Draco Malfoy was such a narcissistic  _jerk!_  Bullying people left and right, an antagonist toward muggle born students and anything muggle related . . . it was a good thing McGonagall had come between them. She was seconds away from putting a hex on him.

And yet the egotistical snob was hot as ever.

Jane strolled through the corridors of the castle and arrived at the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. She looked for a door, a lever, a button, some way to get past the statue to the hidden staircase, but nothing. She looked back at the note she was given in class.

_Jane Rodgers,_

_Meet me in my office. It is time we talked._

_Sincerely, Professor Dumbledore_

_P.S. The password is Acid Pops!_

"Acid Pops?" Jane read aloud.

Immediately the gargoyle became animate and leapt aside, revealing the spiral staircase. Jane glanced curiously between the note and the gargoyle.

"Alrighty then," she muttered, and she climbed the staircase until she came to a door. Lifting her hand, she rapped on it lightly.

"Come in,"

She entered a room filled with wizard and muggle knick-knacks alike that she took no interest in. In the center of the circular room, the elderly headmaster sat at the desk, his hands folded above a stack of paperwork. Jane closed the door behind her.

"Have a seat, Jane," Dumbledore motioned to a plush arm chair. Jane plopped down, her legs crossed.

"You've been pretty busy, huh?" Jane questioned, rested her elbow on the arm of the chair, and her head against her fist.

"Yes, I believe so. How are you liking Hogwarts?"

She shrugged, "What's not to like? I get my own bed, a roof over my head, three square meals a day, and some security. It's definitely better than the streets."

"We do have a nice establishment," Dumbledore stroked the chin underneath his long white beard, "I took the time to check up on your grades -"

"The grading system in Britain is weird I can't tell whether I'm getting good ones or bad ones,"

"The exact reason I took the liberty. You are receiving average marks in all classes except Astronomy and Defense Against the Dark Arts,"

"And what do I have in those classes?"

He gave her a soft, proud smile, "In Astronomy? The highest in the class. Defense Against the Dark Arts? Slightly below Ms. Granger,"

Jane let slip a small dark chuckle. A high grade in Defense Against the Dark Arts? Impossible and ironic.

"Are you making any friends?"

"I guess. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley,"

Dumbledore's smile grew wider before there was a pause in conversation. With a lack of small talk, Jane straightened in her chair. She knew he didn't call her into his office during class to simply chat. And she had an inkling of exactly what he wanted to talk about.

"So I'm here because -?"

The old wizard stared at her a moment longer. He propped his elbows on his desk and pressed the tips of his nimble fingers together, "Right down to business then?"

She said nothing.

And he asked the one question she dreaded hearing.

"I would like to know about your parentage,"

Though you couldn't see it, Jane felt like curling into a ball. She wanted to cry her eyes out, scream into the heavens, and then die. But on the outside she was cold as ever, without even the slightest change of expression. Needing something to keep her occupied through what was about to be a very difficult conversation, she scanned his desk and found a Rubrics Cube.

_When was the last time I saw one of these?_  she thought. Jane didn't bother to ask for it, just reached out and took it in her small hands. Dumbledore didn't seem to mind at all. She began to turn the rows and columns of the cubes to match the colors.

"I don't know," she said, "Closest parent I have is Voldemort,"

"He did not tell you of your parents, or where you came from?"

"The most he told me was that I was abandoned as a baby at the same orphanage he once lived at. The matron, Mrs. Cole, later told him that I exhibited the same behavior he did when he was a child. So he took me,"

"The same behavior as in - ?"

"Glass shattering when I got angry, candles burning brighter when I was happy, water overflowing when I was sad . . ." she switched her position in the chair so that her legs dangled over one arm and her head rested on the other, "Doing mean things to people that hurt me," she whispered this last part.

This apparently did not take him by surprise, seeing as he did not make a comment on it. Dumbledore stood and walked to a cabinet on the other side of the room. Inside was a basin with swirling foggy water, and tiny vials lined the shelves. Jane knew this basin was called a pensive – a device used to experience memories more than once. She vaguely remembered Voldemort having one of these.

"When did Voldemort take you from the orphanage?" he asked as his fingers traced the labels on the shelves.

". . . when I was a baby,"

"I meant the year,"

Jane kept her eyes locked on the cube. A lump formed in her throat the minute after she gave the weak answer, and to be honest she was thankful for it. She was not ready to talk about any of this. It wasn't that she thought Dumbledore couldn't handle it. She was afraid of telling anyone of her past. Of the horrors of what she had been taught to do, what she had witnessed, and what she had partaken in.

You would need a gallon of Veritaserum to get that out of her.

"Not willing to talk?" he asked. She was surprised to hear an understanding tone.

"It won't help you, whatever you're trying to do," she insisted.

"Maybe it won't. And maybe it will. You never know," he picked up a vial and examined it through his half-moon spectacles, "But there are things that I need to figure out. And soon."

Jane bit her lip. She'd like to help, she really would . . . but . . .

He sighed, "You may return to class now, Jane. I will have another meeting with you soon, and I hope you will be more open with me,"

When Jane left his studies, the Rubrics Cube had been solved.

* * *

She was Jane Rodgers.

_She_  was Jane Rogers.

She was  _Jane Rodgers._

Merlin, how  _stupid_  could he have been?! She was the only new student at Hogwarts that wasn't a first year. He thought Jane Rodgers was a girl that had been at the school just as long as he had. But she had been so easy to spot.  _Snape_  knew it. And Draco completely missed it!

_Idiot!_

"Malfoy?" Pansy waved a hand in front of his face, "Hello? Anyone in there?"

"He's been like that all day," Blaise informed.

The minute Draco got back to the common room he plopped down on a couch and refused to move from his position. His arms crossed over his chest, ankles crossed, he stared out the window until evening turned to night. Multiple people came up to talk to him, and he had ignored them all, too wrapped up in his own shocking thoughts.

Why did she, of all people, have to be the one he wanted to murder?

"Come on, Malfoy, snap out of it," Pansy snapped her thick fingers too close to his nose. Though now irritated along with shocked and angry, he made no move.

"What's wrong with him?" Crabbe asked.

Pansy continued to snap her fingers without missing a beat. Draco clenched his jaw to keep from screaming at her.

"Pans, leave him alone. He's not in the mood." Blaise said.

Thank God for Blaise.

As they left him be, Draco returned to his thoughts. Jane's image came into his mind, and he found himself drooling, imagining all he could do to her.

_No!_  he shook his head free of the fantasy. He mustn't think like that. Not anymore. It didn't matter how hot she was, or how much clandestine surrounded her, or that he wanted her. Jane was not a girl he wanted to ask out. She was the girl that had murdered his father, the one the Dark Lord wanted killed.

And kill her he shall.

 


	6. Hogsmeade

The first trip to Hogsmeade came in the middle of October. And sadly it began with a squabble. Something about Harry using a spell on Ron that was written in his book? Jane hadn't really been paying attention. All she knew was Harry and Ron found it hilarious, and Hermione had become even more suspicious of the Half Blood Prince.

After breakfast the four of them left to the Great Hall. To keep herself distracted from her suspicions, Hermione told Jane of all the wonders of the all wizard village.

"The only all wizard village in Britain, to be exact," she said, "There are all kinds of shops. The Three Broomsticks Inn has the tastiest butter beer, and Madam Rosmerta is very kind. Tomes and Scrolls is a neat little book store. And we should definitely go to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. I'm running out. The post office is a cool place to visit. They've got all types of owls, and you can send a message to anywhere in the world. Gladrags Wizardwear is the clothing store that most of the girls bought their dresses for the Yule Ball when Hogwarts hosted the Twi-Wizard Tournament two years ago,"

"You're not even going to tell her the fun stuff?" Ron chortled, "Quill shops? Book shops? I doubt Jane's interested,"

At the front door, the caretaker checked off names of people that had permission to go into the village. Dumbledore had given her special permission to go, considering she would never be able to get it from "daddy dearest." Just before they got in line, a squeaky voice called Jane's name. Professor Flitwick waved at her with his tiny hand, hobbling down the stairs and a little breathless.

"I'm afraid I'll have to stop you going into Hogsmeade today, Ms. Rodgers,"

"What for?" she asked.

"You have failed to turn in your assignments five times in a row,"

"So . . . I have detention?"

Flitwick winced, "I don't like that word. Consider this a chance to make up those missing assignments,"

"I told you you'd get in trouble," Hermione whispered.

Jane glared at her, "I guess I'll have to visit Hogsmeade another time,"

* * *

After getting over his initial shock of learning the identity of the girl he'd been chasing after, Draco went straight to planning.

Well . . . kind of . . .

"I told you I'm not going," Draco announced to Pansy for the twelfth time.

"Why not?" she whined, linking her arm with his.

"I've got detention with McGonagall,"

"Can't you skip?"

Nothing would have been more pleasurable.

"If I do I'll just get in more trouble,"

_Who cared anymore?!_

He pulled her to a stop outside the door to McGonagall's office and leaned against the wall. She rested her body close to his, her head on his shoulder and arms wrapped around his waist.

"If you weren't in trouble would you go with me?"

"Yes," he answered, replacing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, "Maybe if I get out early I'll meet you in the Three Broomsticks,"

"Mkay," Pansy placed a small, sweet kiss on his lips. When she had turned to walk away, he rolled his eyes. Pansy was annoying, daft, and not terribly pretty. But she worshiped the ground he walked on, so it wasn't all bad.

He knocked on the office door.

"Ah, good. You're finally here, Malfoy,"

McGonagall motioned for him to follow her down the corridor, "You will be doing your detention with Madam Pince, reorganizing and shelving books,"

He should not be doing this. Detention, school, homework – it was all a waste of his time. The way things were going, an education might be the least of his worries. What he should've been doing was focusing on his mission.

Speaking of that . . .

Around the corner came Flitwick, tailed by Jane. On their own accord, his eyes traveled down the length of her body, taking in every curve concealed by the article of clothing. His mouth watered at the sight of her, but his mind revved with anger. She looked up in time to see his eyes quickly leave her. A small smirk stretched across her lips. As they passed each other, she leaned over and whispered only low enough for him to hear, "Were you just checking me out?"

Draco ignored her and continued walking.

Jane stared at his back with a bewildered expression. What, no narcissistic response? No pick up line? No sarcastic comment? She was beginning to get used to him hitting on her and criticizing her taste in muggle items that it surprised her to get no reply.

"Come along, Jane. You will be completing your assignments in my office,"

"Okay,"

Jane completed those assignments at half past two, in just enough time to get to Hogsmeade. She was two hallways from the Great Hall, wondering if Hermione was right about that butter beer.

"Rodgers! There you are!"

She spun around. McGonagall, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a girl she didn't recognize marched in her direction.

"My office," the teacher said gravely, "Now,"

Jane followed them back up the marbled staircase. What would have happened? What did she do? Was she in trouble?

They entered the chilly and shabby room. Jane stood close to the fireplace as McGonagall closed the door and sat at her desk. She prompted the girl to tell her what happened in the village. The girl wept and heaved dryly, telling how her friend went into the girl's bathroom at the Inn and came out with a strange package. This package ended up containing a cursed necklace. She begged her friend, Katie, not to touch the necklace, but Katie did anyway, and she had become possessed. Harry went for help and brought back Hagrid, by which time Katie was unconscious. When she was done, the girl could hardly breathe. Professor McGonagall sent her off with one final question.

"Who did Katie say she was supposed to deliver the necklace to?"

"A-A girl named J-Jane R-R-Rodgers,"

* * *

Draco listened intently at the door, a lump of disappointment dropping into his stomach. The necklace never got to Jane. She didn't even touch it! His plan failed.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked off towards the dungeon, a twisted smirk rising on his lips. Too bad Jane hadn't received his early Christmas present. She would have loved it.

* * *

Harry accused Draco Malfoy of giving Katie Bell the cursed necklace to give to Jane. But all evidence pointed against him. No one could prove he had been in possession of the jewelry in the first place. He hadn't even been in Hogsmeade at all, but in detention with McGonagall. And why would he want to kill Jane? What was his motive?

None of it added up.

The first Hogsmeade trip was a weekend trip. This time there was nothing to stop Jane from going to the village with Hermione. When they arrived, Jane described it as a picture that would appear on the front of a Christmas card. Although it was October, it was already beginning to snow. The streets and roofs of the shops and houses were dusted in white. Jane pulled her cloak closer to her as they treaded down the cobblestone street. They had already been inside the Three Broomsticks – Hermione was right, they did have excellent butter beer - and had seen the book store, in which Jane had found a book on the strangest spells ever invented, and Hermione bought three books on wizard history. Hermione had already bought her quills at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop the other day, and they both agreed not to go into the clothing store.

"I think Ron and Harry are in Honeydukes right now. Let's go see," Hermione said when they stopped outside the sweet shop. Jane nodded at the request. The temperature of the weather had dropped drastically, a heavy wind picking up the snow around them like they were in a snow globe and someone had shaken it. She'd do anything to get out of this cold.

Her eyes widened at the sight. Thousands of sweets lined the shelves, each in different labeled sections. Children and adults alike ran amok through the store, their arms filled with candy. Jane walked over to a shelf that contained chocolates. On the lowest shelf was a plate of samples. She chose a kind of mint chocolate fudge and popped it into her mouth.

"Oh my God," she cried, "That's amazing!"

"Honeydukes is known for their chocolate," Hermione informed.

Half of the candies the store contained Jane had hardly heard of. She did know of things such as Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Cauldron cakes, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, and Sugar Quills. And then there were others she had never heard of. Jane tried a Blood-Flavoured lollipop and found she liked the taste a little too much. She threw it away immediately. Glacial Snow Flakes looked like a sparkling white flake, and melted in her mouth, reminding her of cotton candy. Although cotton candy was better tasting. Glacial Snow Flakes had a slightly bitter and crunchy taste to them. Jelly Slugs looked just like gummy worms, but were much fatter. And she would have loved to try the No-Melt Ice Cream, but her mouth was freezing enough.

"It's been a long time since I've tasted candy," Jane admitted.

"Are your parents like mine?" Hermione asked, "Won't let you have any sugar?"

The splendor that Jane was feeling suddenly vanished, replaced by dread. She took a deep, shuddering breath and rubbed her arms. A cold washed over her, raising goose bumps on her skin, and the warmth the store emitted did nothing to help. What was she supposed to tell her?

"Jane?" a hand weighed down on her shoulder. Jane jumped and took a few steps back.

_The truth, I suppose,_ she thought.

"Um . . . my parents . . . I don't know them,"

"What do you mean?" Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"I was abandoned," Jane said simply against the lump in her throat.

"I'm . . . I'm so sorry, Jane," her hand rubbed her shoulder. For the moment it felt soothing. Jane briefly allowed herself to feel the comfort before shaking Hermione off.

"It's fine," she said, "Really. It's hard to feel bad for myself when I didn't even know them,"

_That's all you can tell her. No more._

"Um . . . are we ready to go?"

"Yeah, just let me buy these," Hermione had a hand full of Pumpkin Pasties, "Do you want anything?"

She couldn't. Jane had spent all her money on the spell book, "No, I can't -"

"Come on, Jane. My treat,"

After a little bit of coaxing, Jane finally agreed to let Hermione buy her a sugar quill, a pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and a Peppermint Toad. But when no one was looking, she slipped a Blood-Flavoured lollipop into her pocket. Ron and Harry were not in the sweet shop, so they walked back out into the cold.

"There's one other place I want to show you," Hermione said, her voice muffled by the red scarf over her mouth.

"What?"

Hermione pointed to a shop up the street, closest to the castle. As Jane got closer, she could barely read the sign above through the snow. Dominic Maestro's.

It wasn't as warm in this store as it was the other ones, but warm enough for Jane to let out a sigh as her outer body temperature rose. This shop was full of instruments. Some looked foreign to her, ones with many knobs and strings. And then some, to her surprise, were muggle. Guitars and drums, flutes and . . .

A piano.

It was a small piano, made of dark brown wood and polished ivory keys. Jane's hand slid along the keys, pressing down on a high one. Then a low one. A sharp key. A flat key. She felt herself lower onto the bench provided for the piano and her fingers slowly crawl over the white and black keys. The notes she played went from a jumble to the beautiful but simple chorus of  _Clair de Lune_.

"Wow," Hermione whispered, coming up to her side and leaning over to see Jane's strokes, "I didn't know you could play,"

"I . . . learned a while back," Jane replied. This was mostly truth. She had learned to play while attending a muggle high school. Music was a required class in the curriculum.

Inside she felt long awaited peace, a break from reality. Music really was one of the few ways to calm her down. Since her MP3 player wouldn't work for the life of it, she had resorted to smoking. That was fine and dandy for her, but she was running out of cigarettes, and no doubt she was far away from any convenience store to grab another pack.

"We should go. It's getting dark,"

Irritation sparked in her. Just when she found a remedy for her outbursts. Jane sighed and nodded, ending her song before following her friend out the door. She would have to come back on another Hogsmeade trip.

They arrived to the common room later that night to many unsatisfied mutterings. Katie Bell had been shipped off to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and in the meantime, Harry had appointed Dean Thomas to be her temporary placement as Chaser. Hermione and Jane went straight to their room to avoid the nasty gossip. For the third time since she got there, Jane went to her trunk and retrieved her Walkman. It went crazy the minute she turned it on, and she threw it back into her trunk in aggravation.

"God damnit," she muttered under her breath, then louder, "How far do I have to be to get this thing to work?"

"One mile," she answered.

It's not like that was such a big deal. However, with the high security and no way to get a mile out of the castle's magical reach just to listen to her MP3 player for an hour? Hardly even worth it.

"Jane?" Hermione's voice sounded from across the room, "If you don't mind me asking . . . where did you live before Hogwarts?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you live in an orphanage or something?"

Jane closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck, "No. I lived on the streets."

There was a moment of silence as her fellow sixth year took this information in. Jane mentally cursed herself for doing so. She had sworn not to reveal any more of her life than she already had in the sweets shop. Not that this was "revealing her Dark past" in any way.

"Then how could you afford an MP3 player?"

Surprise caught her. Hermione knew what an MP3 player was? She told Ron about it once when he saw it in her hand and the best name he came up with was "a weird tiny box that can make sound."

"Thrift shop." she answered, "Got the cord, the player, and the buds. I download music every time I'm near a computer,"

Hermione smiled kindly and dropped the subject. Jane laid down on her bed, arms crossed behind her head as she watched Hermione read one of the new books she bought at the window seat.

"What's your family like?" she asked abruptly.

"Well, they're muggles. Dentists." the British girl clarified without missing a beat.

"Oh, so that's why Malfoy called you a -" she stopped herself before continuing.

Her smile turned into a tight line, "He's been calling me that ever since second year."

"He's a pure blood?"

"And proud of it." Hermione set her book down for a moment and looked over at Jane, "And speaking of Malfoy . . . what's going on with you and him?"

Jane knew exactly what she was talking about, "Oh he's got some crush on me,"

"Strange," she muttered, and when Jane gave her a look, she quickly explained, "Not that anyone liking you is strange. I mean it's strange that Draco likes someone in Gryffindor. They're enemies you know,"

"Hard to miss that one," Jane muttered.

 


	7. Hostile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters' thoughts, flashbacks, and Parseltongue will be written in italics. All notes given to characters will be in block quote format.

The upcoming match was wearing down on everyone's nerves, especially since it was against Slytherin. Unable to handle the hostility in the common room, Jane set off on a journey to find a deathly quiet place where she could think without the Weasley siblings interrupting her.

The Forbidden Forest should be quiet enough.

Jane always wanted to see what was so forbidden about this forest. She'd heard stories of werewolves and centaurs, unicorns and giant spiders. She wasn't planning on going too far in. Just far enough to get away from stupid Quidditch pressures.

If I could kill them all, I would, she thought at random.

You can, spoke a voice in her head much like her own, It only takes one spell.

She shook her head free of those thoughts. What the hell?

Jane had managed to get past the gates and was now strolling along the side of Black Lake. It was only a little warmer today than it was a few days ago. She didn't shiver under her black robes, even though a strong wind blew against her. It was very peaceful out here, next to the lake. She could have settled herself out here, but the mysteries in the Forbidden Forest were too enticing to ignore.

Another name for the Forbidden Forest was the Dark Forest. As Jane approached the edge of it, she could see this name suited it well. The trees were dark, the ground was dark, and even the flowers were black. Jane knelt down and picked one between her fingers, bringing it to her nose. The flower may look dead, but it was one of the sweetest she had ever smelled.

"What other surprises do you hold?" Jane whispered. Putting the flower behind her ear, Jane stood and proceeded into the woods.

It was the darkest and coldest place she had ever been. Jane had only ventured perhaps thirty or forty feet in, and she was shivering like crazy. It was like being stuck in an ice box. The farther she went, the more clouded her vision became. She could no longer see the sky above her, or a foot in front of her. When she looked back toward the castle, she could barely see the light through a haze.

Jane pulled out her wand, "Lumos," and the tip of it lit up like a mini flashlight, brightening any feature within a five foot radius. She could see bugs and spiders crawling across the forest floor. Jane went on.

"Well, it sure is creepy. I'll give it that." Jane muttered to herself.

On her exploration of this infamous forest, Jane found two of the legendary creatures she'd heard of. The first was a Thestral; a horse with a skeletal body and reptilian features. Jane wasn't afraid of the Thestral and its supposed bad omen, but she didn't approach it. The mere sight of the ghost-like horse made her freeze. Thestrals were only ever seen by those who had witnessed death and come to terms with it. Living with Voldemort as a guardian as long as she had, Jane knew all too well that death and killing happened.

And she knew it even more when she did some killing of her own.

Jane sank to the floor and pulled her legs up to her chest. The corners of her eyes stun with tears.

Oh, those poor people . . .

It took a long while for her to pull herself together.

The second creature was a unicorn. She had been walking in the dark, still shaken up from seeing the Thestral. Like a beacon, its coat glowed the purest of whites. Its mane sparkled, and its horn looked sharp. Jane gasped the minute she saw it. Such beauty. And as quickly as she saw it, it galloped away.

"I better get back," she whispered. Who knew how long she'd been gone? She didn't have a watch on her.

Jane had only taken five steps when she heard a small slithering over leaves and sticks. For a moment she ignored it and continued. Then it grew louder. Louder. Louder still. At last she turned with wand in hand, lighting up the area. Every nerve in her body turned to ice, and her skin crawled. In the places where light didn't reach she saw big, glittery eyes, and slimy scales. Something big coiled up, getting ready to attack. Her brain screamed for her to run.

Before she could even make a move, it went for her. The gigantic snake lashed out at her feet, biting into her ankle. Jane screamed and fell. She tried getting up, but the pain was too much. She couldn't even crawl away before the snake curled itself around her legs.

"Stop!" she screamed, her voice high pitched, "Stop! Let me go! Let me go!"

At the last request, instead of English, a low hiss came out of her mouth. The snake stopped immediately at her waist and stared up at her with empty black eyes. Its tongue poked out of its mouth as it spoke, "You speak my language?"

"Yes, now let me go!"

Slowly the snake uncoiled itself from her body and slithered back from her. Jane brought her knees to her chest and shuddered. Still able to feel the slimy scales surrounding her. The massive pain still throbbed in her ankle. There were two bite marks interrupting the flow of her skin with blood, but no swelling.

"You are not poisonous are you?" she asked quietly, her voice shaking.

"No," the snake replied. It was still stunned by the fact that a human could understand it, "You are a Dark witch," she heard the snake accuse, a harsh tone to its words. Jane closed her eyes as tears flowed down her cheeks. Its words echoed in her ears.

"No, I'm not," she hissed, hating the way the words came out of her mouth, "No, I'm not," she repeated in English. Before the snake could say anything more, she got to her feet and ran. Her ankle protested, but she ignored it. Her only thought was to get out of the Forbidden Forest.

It was still light once she reached the edge of the woods. She couldn't have been in there for more than a few hours. Jane leaned against a tree and breathed deeply, frantically wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Calm down," she whispered, "Calm down, Jane. You're fine. You're okay."

"Jane?!"

Fuck. Not now.

Hagrid thundered up toward her, the body of a dead rooster swinging from his thick hand. His eyes were drawn to her location and injured ankle.

"Wha' in blazes do yeh think yeh're doin'?" he shouted, voice booming in her ears, "Yeh know tha' the Forbi'en Fores' is off lim – yeh're hur'," his voice softened at the sight of blood and tear stains, "Come wi'h me. We'll ge' yeh fixed up,"

Hagrid carried Jane in his big arms a short ways to his hut, a circular building with a pointed room and chimney made of stone. Inside he set her down on a large bed, then rummaged through a chest for a rag and healing solution.

"Now I ain' no Madam Pomfrey, but we'll ge' yeh all cleaned up. Wha' were yeh doin' near the fores'?" he asked, taking her ankle into his hand.

"Nothing," she said shortly, "Just checking it out,"

"An' yeh go' bitten by a snake. Yeh're lucky it wasn' poisonous," Hagrid had cleaned all the blood off and was now adding the healing solution, which stun like crazy, "Yeh know this means I'll have te tell Dumbledore yeh snuck off school grounds an' take poin's frem Gryffindor,"

"Yeah, whatever – ow!" she pulled her ankle out of his grasp when he rubbed a little too hard on her bite.

"Sorry," he grunted. Then he wrapped her ankle in gauze, "There, all better,"

"Thanks," Jane stood and instantaneously wobbled. When she regained her balance, she went on to the door.

"Hold on a sec," he stopped her with a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"What now?" Jane groaned.

"Yeh look like yer havin' a bad day,"

No, really? her head screamed. Even a maggot could figure that out!

"Yeh wanna tell me wha's wrong?"

No, not really.

Jane shugged and put most of her weight on the foot that wasn't injured.

"Why'd yeh go inter the fores' in the fir' place?"

She really hated being put on the spot like this.

"The pressure of the upcoming Quidditch match was annoying me, and I needed a quiet place,"

"An' yeh wen' te the fores' fer tha'?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time. Then I got bitten by a snake," she let out an involuntary shudder.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Jane looked up at him to see a perplexed expression.

"How 'bou this? I won' tell Dumbledore or take poin's away from yer house if yeh promise no' the go inter the fores' again,"

Jane raised an eyebrow in confusion. It's not like she cared whether or not she got in trouble. She got in trouble all the time. But why would he do this?

"Deal,"

As she walked away from Hagrid's hut and toward the castle, Jane lifted up the left side of her black T-Shirt and tank top to reveal the scar of another snake bite identical to the one now on her ankle. She shuddered.

The snake had reminded her so much of Nagini.

When Jane returned to the common room, the atmosphere had not changed. Ron was still extremely hostile, and Ginny had a cold shoulder. The next morning Ron was worse than ever, uneedingly lashing out at Hermione. Harry tried to keep Ron in check, while Jane attempted to help Hermione stay in a stable state of emotion, but to no effect. By the end of this day the two went to bed in an angry and hurt fashion.

Ron's behavior failed to change for several days, becoming counterproductive in the last practice, which Hermione refused to go to.

"I don't want to see the likes of him until after the Quidditch match," she fumed.

"Okay, so what do you want to do?" Jane questioned.

They went to the library.

"Seriously?" Jane wined, "The library?"

"You said we could go anywhere I wanted," she said haughtily.

"Yeah, but I meant -"

"Shh!"

Madam Pince, the librarian, stuck her head around the book shelf to glare at them. With a jab of her index finger over her lips, she let them be.

"Someplace more fun," Jane continued, her voice lowered.

"The library is fun," Hermione insisted in the same hushed tone.

"If you say so,"

"Just imagine all the things you can learn, the places you can go,"

"I'm not the reading type – but I can give it a shot," she said, hoping her cooperation would keep Hermione from going ballistic with emotion, "Anything on travel?"

Hermione pointed to her right, "A few aisles that way. It's not a big section, but it's got some interesting topics,"

Not a big section? Clearly Jane had not been to enough libraries to know what a small section was. Jane's fingers traced the labels carved onto the wooden shelves. There were books on common places, such as Asia and Australia, books on muggle and wizard settlements alike. The ones that she found most interesting were the books on exotic places.

From the eighth shelf, Jane spotted a book with an old dusted leather cover. She reached up to take it, but found she was too short. Jane hooked her hand onto the edge of the bookshelf and began to climb.

"Almost got it," she strained, her fingers barely touching the book, "Al . . . most . . . yes!"

She grasped the novel in victory. The minute she did, however, her grip slipped and she fell back. Jane closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, expecting to land on hard ground. What she didn't expect was someone to catch her, and then land on hard ground.

"Watch where you're falling,"

She opened her eyes to see Draco walking away after having caught her, leaving her on the ground, once again without flirting with her.

"What was all that about?"

Hermione stood behind her with four books resting in her arms. She set them down on a nearby table to help Jane up.

"Dunno," she picked up the book she was so desperately trying to get. It certainly wasn't worth climbing up the shelves.

"Doesn't he usually flirt with you?"

"He hasn't in a while,"

"Maybe it's better that way. He's not someone any girl should be interested in,"

I'm not so sure about that, Jane thought, "Alright, are we done? Because I know something that's a lot more fun than this,"

"You're right, this is fun,"

The two girls sat in the Gryffindor common room alone, sipping hot cocoa and roasting marshmallows that Jane had stolen from the kitchens. It wasn't that hard, all she had to do was ask.

"When was the last time you roasted marshmallows?" Jane asked.

"Four or five years ago, when my parents last took me camping. You?"

"The day before start of term. If only I asked for chocolate and graham crackers, too. We could have had s'mores,"

Hermione let out a giggle, and then stuffed a brownish white mound of warm fluff into her mouth. Jane could visibly see the stressed girl relax in her arm chair. This method was working for Jane too. A much better idea than exploring the Forbidden Forest, although that was fun for a while.

"I've got to take care of something real quick," Jane said, "I'll be right back," she got up from her chair and limped towards the staircase.

"How did you get that injury again?" Hermione inquired suspiciously.

"Tripped and sprang my ankle," she lied without missing a beat.

Up in her room, Jane retrieved a roll of gauze from her night stand, and pulled up the pant leg covering her bite. The gauze around it was stained in blood, and the bite was mostly healed. She had to keep a wrapping around her ankle and wear jeans until the marks were gone.

Or left an unexplained scar.

She shuddered.

Jane limped back downstairs to find that the relaxing atmosphere she and her friend created was shattered. The house Quidditch team returned from their practice. Ron gave Hermione a scowl before pushing past Jane and heading off to bed, leaving Hermione looking sullen and confused.

"Come on, Pavarti! We're going to be late!"

"Don't rush me! My hair won't stay flat,"

"How do I look?"

"Cute as ever. Why? Trying to impress someone?"

"Well . . ."

"Oh my Merlin, you are! Who?"

"I'll tell you later,"

"Lavender?!"

Jane groaned and rolled onto her stomach and slammed the pillow over her head, "Will you just shut up?!"

She could almost feel the two singeing her skin with death glares before the door slammed. Sitting up, she rubbed her temples delicately. One could only take so much squealing in the morning.

"God, and I thought the way teenagers talked in America was annoying," she muttered when noticing Hermione was awake.

"Be lucky you haven't lived with them for the last five years. Thank Merlin you came, or I would have strangled myself,"

"You're welcome,"

Hermione pushed herself up and stretched out her arms. Her hair was bushier than ever, and her chocolate brown eyes were red and swollen, tired with sleep.

"Rough night?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked at her knees, a single tear leaking out the corner of her eye.

Oh God.

"I don't know what I did wrong,"

I don't know how much more of this I can take, Jane thought. She sighed and went to the neighboring bed, lightly rubbing Hermione's shoulder in an awkward way, "Um . . . there . . . there . . . It's nothing you've done, I'm sure. Ron's just under a lot of stress about the game. He should be back to normal in no time."

The girl sniffed and wiped away the tears, "You're probably right,"

"So do you wanna go to breakfast now or later?"

They took their sweet time showering and getting dressed, and then headed down to the Great Hall, having a very difficult time trying to walk - or in Jane's case, limp - without tripping over someone. Hermione cautiously walked to where the boys sat and remained standing while Jane plopped down next to Harry and helped herself to bacon and eggs.

Harry took up a goblet and poured a fine line of amber colored liquid and then gave it to the grump across from him, "Here you go, Ron,"

Ron, a permanent grimace plastered on his face, raised the glass.

"Ron, stop! Don't drink it!"

The three looked up at Hermione's horrified face, "And why the bloody hell not?" barked Ron.

"Harry just put something in your drink!"

"What?"

"You put something in Ron's drink!"

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"You still have the bottle in your hand!"

Sure enough he did, which he tried to hide in his pocket. Jane wrestled it away from him, holding the bottle high in the air to examine it while keeping the boy from taking it back, "Isn't this that Felix Felicis potion Professor Slughorn gave you?"

"Give it back or I'll curse you!" said Harry, pulling at her robes. Finally she flipped the bottle back to him.

"Don't drink it, Ron!" Hermione insisted. But before she could finish her sentence, Ron had chugged the entire goblet, leaving no drop behind.

"Stop telling me what to do, Hermione," he warned, wiping his mouth off with his sleeve.

Her mouth dropped and her eyes bulged. She hissed something only Harry could hear, and he whispered back. Now she looked scandalized, violated. She ran from the room, the boys watching her go like it was an everyday thing.

"Nice going," Jane scoffed, slapping the back of his head and managing to smack Ron before running after her.

"Hermione?" she called, eyes searching the entrance hall and finding nothing. Thinking she might have gone to the common room, she headed to the upper levels of the castle.

"Dilligrout," she told the fat lady guarding the entrance. The password was accepted, but Hermione was nowhere in sight.

"God damn it," she muttered, "Where could she be? I don't want to have to chase her down all day." Jane checked the clock on the mantel piece. The Quidditch match had already begun. Maybe she was in the stands. Jane walked through the corridors toward the front of the castle, her mind wandering to Hermione and how Ron was doing in his keeper position. The next thing she knew, Jane was at the bottom of a staircase, her injured ankle was twisted, and her head throbbed. Jane rubbed her temple and gritted her teeth. Then she lifted her jean leg to examine her ankle. It was swollen.

"Oh come on!" she grunted, "It was just starting to get better!"

"Are you okay?"

A boy with dark skin and dark hair jogged to her. She vaguely recognized him from Transfiguration, but couldn't remember his name. He knelt down and looked at her ankle, "I saw you fall. Your ankle looks like its twisted - why is it all wrapped up?"

"Previous injury," she said quickly. Inwardly she groaned - now she really had to go see the nurse this time.

"I'll help you to the hospital wing," the boy helped her stand, taking her arm and placing it around his neck while his own went to her waist, "I'm Blaise, by the way. Blaise Zabini."

That's what his name was. Blaise, "I'm Jane Rodgers,"

"Yeah, I know you from Transfiguration,"

The rest of the stumble was spent in silence. Madam Pomfrey put her on a hospital bed the minute she got there, and Blaise harshly refused to leave until Jane was healed. Madam Pomfrey removed the gauze to get a better look. She did not question the snake bite, although looked suspiciously at it.

"Episkey," the matron cast with a flick of her wand. Jane felt her bones set on fire for a few moments, and then a freezing sensation take over.

"That should heal it, but your ankle will be sore for a few days. Shall I give you some crutches?"

"No thanks, I'll be fine," Jane insisted. She hopped off the metal bed and wobbled for a moment. Blaise rushed to help steady her.

"Anywhere I can take you?" he asked.

"Yeah, how about outside?"

Blaise helped her into the courtyard under the clock tower. In the center of the courtyard was a giant fountain. At the moment it wasn't spurting water. Jane rested on the edge of the fountain and held her head in her hands. She still had a terrible headache.

"Wait a minute, aren't you a Chaser for Slytherin?" Jane suddenly remembered. Blaise sat next to her and cracked his knuckles.

"Yes. But I got detention, so I couldn't play this time,"

"Then shouldn't you be at the stadium watching?"

"Shouldn't you?"

Jane shrugged, "Not really into Quidditch at the moment,"

So they spent their time talking about small things, mostly about classes and the difference between Britain and America, "American girls are quite funny," the boy admitted after laughing at her witty comments, "And pretty, too," he added with a sly smile.

"Not really. Most women in America are plastic," Jane disagreed, knowing all too well what he meant.

"You know, I'd really like to hang out with you some -"

The sound of loud footsteps interrupted them. Jane and Blaise looked in the direction of the clock tower, where a boy with a pointed face appeared. Draco looked at Blaise, looked at Jane, glared at the two of them, and continued walking.

"The Slytherin Quidditch team is missing a lot of their players today," Jane pointed at the boy's retreating back.

"Malfoy, aren't you supposed to be playing?!" Blaise shouted at him.

What. The. Hell.

What was she doing with Blaise?!

Didn't he specifically tell him that Jane was his?!

Anger flowed through his veins as Draco stomped down the marble staircase to the first floor, ignoring his friend's calls to him. There was also something else there, a feeling he could place, but didn't want to accept.

Jealousy.

How could he be jealous? He had nothing to be jealous of. He hated Jane Rodger'guts, and Blaise could have her for all he cared.

No.

Blaise couldn't have her. Jane was his.

Wait a minute, no she wasn't!

When Jane went back to the common room, it was still empty. She sat in one of the armchairs by the fire, watching the flames flicker wildly, and a moment later she fell asleep. And that peaceful slumber was soon interrupted by screams and shouts entering Gryffindor Tower. She rubbed her eyes and quickly sat up as people entered. Music began to play and soon food and drinks were spread throughout the crowd.

"Guess we won," she muttered. Jane moved herself from the chair and walked around. Harry, Ron, and Hermione must have been back too. It took her several minutes to push through the throng to find any one of them.

Instead, she saw all three of them at once. First she saw Ron in the center of the room, lip locking with Lavender Brown and his hand gripping her ass. Then she saw Harry over by the boy's staircase, also watching Ron. Harry's eyes darted over to the portrait hole, where she finally saw Hermione. Hermione caught sight of Ron, and her already red eyes teared up, and she disappeared, along with Harry.

It was a very complicated situation.

Jane was getting really tired of this back and forth stuff. Her fists clenched while she walked up the stairs to the dormitories. It was dark when she came in, the only light coming from the moon. Jane scavenged for candles.

"Incendio," she whispered. A small jet of fire ignited from the tip of her wand. She held it to the wick of each candle before blowing it out. The flickering light cast shadows across the walls.

"Stupid drama," she grunted, "Didn't have to deal with this on the streets,"

Jane leaned up against a wall, rubbing her temples. The fighting, the relationships, the scandal, the drama . . . She felt like she was on a sitcom. It was all giving her a headache.

She suddenly felt something icy crawl up her spine and flood into her brain. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

"You could always go back on the street,"

"I can't. The Death Eaters would find me." she claimed.

"You're a smart girl. You've escaped them before,"

"Yeah. By killing them." her throat tightened. A small dread rose within her.

"There was no other way,"

"There's always another way,"

"You said it yourself. There is too much trouble. Too much drama. The street is better. Anything is better than Hogwarts."

"No," Jane disagreed, "Hogwarts is the safest place for me,"

"Do you really think that?"

"Yes, I do. He can't . . . Voldemort can't get me here. I'm safe here,"

"It won't be for long,"

The cold feeling left, and all was quiet now. The room felt smaller, claustrophobic. The boom of the music downstairs gently vibrated the floor. Jane pressed a hand to her heart in hopes to calm herself down. Why had this conversation felt any different than the ones she had before? It was almost like someone was trying to convince her to leave.

The door opened and Pavarti walked in. She glanced at Jane; something must have looked strange about her, because Pavarti asked, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she sighed, "What's going on?"

"Party ended,"

"Where's Hermione and Lavender?"

Pavarti looked over her shoulder and shot Jane a sly smile, "I don't know about Hermione, but Lavender is fooling around with Ron Weasley somewhere in the castle. It's so romantic,"

Jane felt like puking.


	8. Pansy's On Fire!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters' thoughts, flashbacks, spells, and Parseltongue will be written in italics. All notes given to characters will be in block quote format.

"What is it with you and Slytherins?"

This question was asked the morning of a Tuesday, between Runes and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hermione had stuck pretty close to Jane for the time being. She wouldn't speak to Ron, Not a single word, and she wasn't too fond of Harry either. So most of her time was spend in class, in the library, or in the company of Jane, who only minded a little. Sometimes when she was with Hermione, she wished to be alone.

"First Malfoy was all over you. Now Blaise Zabini?"

Blaise had recently taken a reasonable interest in Jane. When she wasn't with Hermione or in class, she sat out by the fountain with him and talked. Other times they hung out around the castle and after classes. A few times he asked her out on a date, however she politely refused. He even went as far as to kiss her cheek.

"I guess there aren't enough pretty girls in Slytherin house that they're forced to date Gryffindors," Jane wondered aloud.

"So you are dating him?!" Hermione hissed, "Jane!"

"What?!"

"You shouldn't be dating a Slytherin!"

_And you shouldn't be telling me what to do._

"I don't even think we're dating. I just know he likes me,"

"Still . . ."

The girls found themselves at the door to the DADA classroom. They entered and sat at a table in the far back. Jane dropped her bag underneath her seat and kicked her feet onto the table. Harry and Ron came in a few minutes later and sat at the same table, with Ron on Jane's side and Harry on Hermione's.

"Settle down, settle down,"

Professor Snape entered his classroom. He paused at their table, his eyes narrowed on Jane in great dislike.

"Five points from Gryffindor. Ms. Rodgers, get your feet off my table,"

Jane glared back, grumbling underneath her breath as she sat upright, accidently-on-purpose kicking Ron in the head. She didn't like Snape. Snape's gaze went to Harry next, and instead of dislike, he glared at The Chosen One with utter hatred.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for . . . just being you, Mr. Potter,"

"That's not even a reason!" Jane defended.

"And another five points for Ms. Rodgers mouthing back," Snape declared, "Shall I keep going?"

Ron's hands clapped over Jane's mouth before she could shout any foul names at the teacher. Snape grinned conceitedly and went to the front of the classroom, where he took role and announced the day's assignments.

"For the  _fourth_  time this semester, we will be learning the spell Expelliarmus in the nonverbal form - we wouldn't have to repeat this if only my students would  _practice_ ," he added at the sound of the pupils groaning, "But since they seemed to be  _incapable of that,_  we will just have to spend class time doing so until you can get it all through your thick skulls,"

The class was split into pairs. Harry was placed with Seamus Finnigan, Ron with Pansy Parkinson, Hermione with a Hufflepuff Jane didn't recognize, and . . .

"Ms. Rodgers and Mr. Malfoy,"

Jane groaned.  _Oh fantastic._

The tables and chairs were moved aside to allow the students more room. The pairs came together, wands out and mouths shut. The room was almost deathly silent, except for the occasional huff of aggravated air and a few mutterings. Jane stood a few feet from Draco, her wand pointing at his chest. Draco had a tense position and his face was slightly purple from trying too hard.

"Don't forget to breathe," Jane mumbled under her breath. Draco only glared at her and focused on the spell.

"What, no witty comeback?"

Suddenly her wand shot out of her hand and up in the air, only to be caught by Draco. He twirled her wand between his fingers with a smug expression.

"Good job," she whispered, "Now give it back,"

He continued to twirl her wand. Jane held her hand out for it. Draco shook his head, his smirk growing. She narrowed her eyes and closed the space between them, trying to grab it from him, but Draco held it above her head.

"Give it back!" she growled, reaching up against him. Draco began snickering and waved her wand tauntingly. She put her hand on his shoulder to push him down to her height. He put a hand on her stomach to push her away.

"What is going on here?" Snape had approached the partners.

"I got her wand away from her,"

"By wrestling?"

Draco's jaw set in irritation. Jane took this moment to jump and grab her beloved wand.

"No, by the nonverbal spell," he informed.

"Oh really?" Snape asked with mild surprise, "Someone  _actually managed_  to  _complete_  the spell?"

_What is he talking about?_ Jane thought annoyingly,  _I've done it a thousand times._

"Let us see you do it again, Malfoy," Snape declared.

Jane stepped back a few feet and held out her wand defensively. Draco resumed his stressed position, now a little more stressed due to Snape. In a span of two minutes Draco managed to replicate the spell.

"I'm glad to see at least  _someone_  is making some progress," Snape announced loud enough for the class to hear, "Even if it is slow. Class dismissed,"

Draco shot Jane with another superior smirk. With a flick of her wand, his went flying and rolled away underneath a table. Jane had the satisfaction of watching him get down on his hands and knees to search.

"Any luck?" Hermione asked after class.

"A bit," Jane lied, "You?"

"Same,"

"Hey you! Rodgers!"

Jane turned to see Pansy Parkinson stomping toward them. With the face of a pug, the angry expression she wore only made her look uglier.

"What?" Jane asked flatly.

"What the hell was that in class?"

"Excuse me?"

"You were all over Malfoy!"

"He had my wand and wouldn't give it back,"

"That's not what it looked like to me,"

"Truthfully, I don't care what it looked like to you," Jane said as she and Hermione slowly began to retreat.

"Just stay away from my boyfriend."

Jane stopped.  _Boyfriend?_  She snorted.

"What's so funny?"

"Better keep a leash on your  _boyfriend_ ," Jane advised, "Cause he's barking up a lot of trees that aren't yours,"

"Malfoy would never flirt with a filthy blood traitor like you,"

Jane closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She could feel her temper rising rapidly. This was neither the time nor the place to lose it, "You don't even know my blood status,"

_And frankly neither do I._

"Any wizard or witch that hangs around  _mudbloods_ ," Pansy spat, dark eyes directed at Hermione, "Is a blood traitor, plain and simple,"

That did it.

Jane had the Slytherin girl by the collar of her robes and her wand pointed at her throat. Her fists were so tight, she could feel her fingernails drawing blood; her jaw so clenched, she was sure she was cracking a few teeth. Pansy's eyes widened in fear and she started to quiver.

"Jane!" Hermione shouted.

"Take that back," Jane hissed in a low and dangerous voice, "Take back that  _foul_  name you called her,"

Three pairs of footsteps flooded her ears. She heard Ron, Harry, and Draco's voices.

"Jane, what the hell are you doing?" that was Harry.

"Do it!" Ron egged her on.

"No, don't!" Hermione begged.

"Get off her!"

The cowering girl was taken out of her clutch before Jane could do anything about it. She was pushed behind Draco for protection. The two glared menacingly, and for a moment Jane thought about hexing him instead.

"Jane, come on, snap out of it,"

A hand pushed down her wand arm while another heaved her in the opposite direction. Jane let them lead her away, anger still high. It was when she heard Pansy giggling that she lost it once more. Spinning around, Jane spotted an opening just under Draco's arm.

_"Incendio!"_

And Pansy's arm caught fire.

"Let's get out of here before you cause any more trouble," Harry said, gripping her arm and steering her away. A bubble of satisfaction formed inside her as Pansy's screams of pain followed them.

Pansy's other friends ran around like chickens without their heads, trying desperately to put out the fire. All Draco did was look at Jane as she stomped down the hall with her Gryffindor friends following her.

_That's the girl that killed my father,_  he thought.

_You see how fun it is to harm others?_  the voice in her head cooed.

When they were far enough away, Jane removed herself from the boys' grip and headed off in a different direction, only to be stopped by Hermione.

"You are  _not_  skipping Potions," Hermione demanded, "You haven't gone to a single class this entire semester,"

"She needs to calm down first," Harry suggested, "You two go to class. I'll stay here with Jane,"

_It's fun to hurt people,_  the voice insisted,  _Did you hear how she screamed? Oh, it was delightful!_

Her blood boiled underneath her skin. Jane knew she had to calm down. But how could someone judge others by their blood status?! It was so wrong! Hermione was the smartest witch she'd ever met, did it really matter if she was muggle born?

_If I'm a pure blood, then I'll kill myself._

Because Jane didn't know who her parents were, she had no idea of her blood status. In the past she didn't care. Now because of Pansy she didn't want to know.

"Jane, stop pacing and sit down,"

Before Harry could touch her, Jane expertly swatted his hand away, "Don't touch me," but she followed his advice and rested on a nearby bench. Harry sat next to her. Noticing her clenched fists, he ignored her request and pried her fingers away from her palms. They were bleeding from crescent moon shaped indents.

"I've never seen anyone with that big a temper," said Harry, "Not even Ron, and we just had an epidemic with him."

"Did he ever curse anyone?"

"Oh yeah. He tried to curse Malfoy once for calling Hermione something terrible in the second year. What happened? Did Malfoy -?"

"It wasn't Malfoy," Jane interrupted, "It was Pansy Parkinson. She called Hermione a – a – that  _horrid_  name," she put an intense amount of venom in the word.

Harry huffed and shook his head, "And I thought we were over the name calling thing,"

"I guess you're never too mature for name calling,"

It was a slow process of deep breathing and glaring at the floor. After a while Jane only had an angry buzz in the back of her head. The traffic in the castle had slowed down considerably - they would most likely be late for class.

Jane sighed, "Come on, star pupil," she stood and followed him toward the dungeons, but when Harry wasn't looking, she went back to the Great Hall.

She wasn't about to break her ditching streak.

* * *

"It is true?! Have you been flirting with her?!"

The minute Pansy returned from the hospital wing, she cornered Malfoy going up the staircase to the boy's dormitories. Her arm was completely healed, but she would whine about how much it hurt.

"Well?! Have you?!" she yelled.

He shouldn't have to explain himself to her. She wasn't his girlfriend, no matter what she thought.

"I can't believe you! And you didn't even help me when that psycho attacked me,"

"What do you mean I didn't help? I pulled you away from her!"

"You didn't do a very good job! Honestly, Malfoy, how could you even like a slimy blood traitor like her?!"

"What did you say?"

Blaise had entered the common room. He noticed that Pansy's white button down shirt had a major hole in it, the fabric surrounding it burnt and frayed, "What happened to you?"

Pansy immediately pointed an accusing finger at Draco's chest, "He's been cheating on me with a blood traitor!" she called, almost in tears, "And she attacked me!"

Blaise scoffed, "Oh please. Malfoy isn't even your boyfriend. You just think he is,"

Draco couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Pansy shot daggers at him.

"Who's the blood traitor?"

"Jane Rodgers,"

Draco knew that Blaise was surprised to hear this claim, but his fellow Slytherin showed no sign of it. He did, however, clench his jaw.

"You're lying,"

Draco couldn't help himself when he spoke out next, "And what the bloody hell are you doing with her anyway? Did I not tell you that -?"

"Here's the thing, Malfoy," Blaise interrupted with a bitter tone, "I'm not one of your cronies. You can't tell me what I can and can't do, who I can and can't keep in my company. I don't care whether you claimed her or not, you can't claim a bloody person,"

"You  _were_  after her!" Pansy cried, "You  _were_  cheating on me!"

"Oh for the love of -" Draco fisted his hands against his ears. What a mixed bag of nuts! She may worship the ground he walked on, but she wasn't worth keeping.

"And she is not a blood traitor," the black boy defended.

_He doesn't know_ , Draco thought. A sudden malicious idea sparked within him. Blaise was so conscious of the people he kept close. There was no room for mud bloods or blood traitors.

"Afraid so, Blaise," Draco gave him a simpering look, but couldn't keep the knowing tone from his voice, "Rodgers spends the majority of her time with Granger, Potter, and Weasley. She likes to use muggle utensils as well,"

Blaise's fist clenched.

* * *

There were bloody marks on her palms where her fingernails dug into her skin.

Jane examined these marks after serving her detention for cursing Pansy. She had spent four hours with Filch cleaning the towers that weren't in use – no magic allowed. Ugh. So many cobwebs.

_She deserved it._

For the first time, Jane felt no remorse for what she did.

"She really did deserve it," she whispered.

"Hey!"

Blaise stomped toward her with a glare that made his long slanted eyes look colder than usual. Despite this, she smiled and waved at him, "Hey, what's going on?"

"You tricked me," he stopped a few feet from her.

"I . . . what?"

"You never told me you were a blood traitor,"

_Oh God, not him too._

"Oh God, not you too," Jane groaned, feeling a tick of irritation inside her.

"Next time you might want to lead with that," he jeered.

_Hi, my name's Jane Rodgers. I hang out with muggleborns and other people that also hang out with muggleborns. Go ahead and call me a filthy blood traitor, I know you want to._

Jane let out a soft laugh, and it was nowhere near a humorous one. More like an I-can't-believe-I-have-to-deal-with-this-twice-in- one-day laugh. This situation was sad. In classes Jane had found Slytherins to be spiteful and vain, putting blood status, appearances, and money over everything. When she met Blaise Zabini, he certainly didn't seem that way, "And maybe you should start out by telling people that you're prejudice against everything," she shot back, "That would have made this all so much easier," Jane started to walk away, holding her hands stiffly at her sides before she could do anything she would regret. Blaise's voice trailed her.

"And if you ever hurt Pansy again, you'll have to answer to me!"

_You?_  she thought,  _Easy. I've faced more threatening enemies._

"I won't hurt her," Jane called back, "If she keeps her fat mouth shut,"

* * *

Jane was called to Dumbledore's office on a Wednesday. The first thing she saw was that the Rubric's Cube was still solved.

_Great,_  she groaned,  _Now I won't have anything to play with._

"I've heard you set Pansy Parkinson on fire?"

". . . yeah . . ." Why did she feel like a little kid who was about to get in trouble for writing on the walls?

"I didn't get to hear the whole story. Would you mind telling me?"

Now she was beginning to feel guilty for what she did. Being under the power of the headmaster's gaze probably did that to everyone.

_Pansy still deserved it_ , the voice insisted.

Jane rubbed the back of her neck nervously, "Well – um – she called Hermione a very foul name,"

"You were defending your friend,"

"Yes,"

Silence.

"Are you . . . going to punish me?"

"I believe you already received detention from your head of house?"

"Uh huh,"

"Then there is no need to punish you twice,"

Whatever. Still, she couldn't help but sigh in relief. And now came the tricky part of the meeting.

"Today I would like to know of your life after Voldemort,"

"You mean when he supposedly died?"

"That's right,"

Now this she could talk about.

"For the first few years, I'm not sure what happened," Jane admitted, "I don't remember anything. I guess someone must have taken care of me, because my memories started when I woke up on a mattress in an alleyway, but I was alone,"

"But you knew Voldemort was your guardian, and you initially came from an orphanage?" he asked. There was slight confusion etched on his face.

"No . . . that I learned later."

"Where were you when you woke up?"

"New York City,"

"I suppose whoever was talking care of you brought you from Britain to America?"

Jane shrugged, "I suppose,"

Dumbledore looked at the paperwork underneath his hands. Picking up a quill, he dipped it in ink and scribbled a few words on the parchment.

"What happened after that?"

Jane sank lower in her chair, crossing her legs over each other to get more comfortable, "Well, I kind of wandered around. Looked out for number one. Did what I could to survive. I had no idea I was a witch. Thought I was a normal kid. When I turned twelve I was in Florida and a bunch of weird stuff was happening to me. Signs that tell you whether you possess magical power or not. And then I met Professor Garcia,"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, rubbing his white beard in thought, "I have heard of a witch named Penelope Garcia that teaches at the school in Florida. Quite a good teacher?"

"She's the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. She told me all about the wizarding world and got me enrolled in the Eustis Wizarding Academy. She even got me my school supplies,"

"Did she get you your wand as well?"

Jane paused for a moment, then pulled out her wand, holding it delicately between her fingertips. Eleven inches. Made of rosewood. Unicorn hair core. In her youth this wand had always been with her. She thought it was some measly stick, nothing of use. However, she could never part with it. Somehow, before she knew she was a witch, she knew it was important to keep this with her at all times.

"No," she whispered.

Voldemort had gotten it for her . . .

"I will make the assumption you did not stay at Eustis Wizarding Academy for too long?"

"I was there for a year before I was expelled because I preformed Dark magic on accident. Professor Garcia stood up for me and said she would try and help me to control this Dark magic, but the rest of the staff wasn't too keen on me staying." Jane slipped her wand back into her robes, "They don't break your wand in America, so I went on my way to the next wizarding school,"

"Which was?"

"The Salem Witch's Institute, USA. I was there for a only half a year. From there I was caught by cops in Minnesota, and they sent me to a muggle high school. There for another half year before I ran away. Straight after that I was in North Dakota, and I needed a place to hide, so I went to another muggle school for barely a month. Then I went to Little Known Magic School in Colorado. Also another year before I was kicked out,"

"Those are all the schools in America. And you were expelled from all of them?"

"Yep," Jane confirmed.

"Did you get expelled for the same thing?"

"Um . . ." she bit her lip, "Yeah . . . and my temper. I was kicked out for showing off a dark spell, or cursing a kid when I got overly mad,"

"Like Ms. Parkinson?"

Jane nodded, "Other times it was just breaking the rules too much,"

Dumbledore nodded and scribbled down more notes. Jane shifted uncomfortably in her seat, distracting herself by looking at her fingernails.

"Were there any other schools you attended?"

"When I ran out of schools to go to in America, I snuck onto a cargo ship that was headed to Europe. From there I went to France, and attended Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Kicked out once again. I ran away before they could break my wand."

"And then?"

". . . bad things . . . very bad things . . ."

 


	9. Do You Want To Be a Death Eater, Rodgers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters' thoughts, flashbacks, spells, and Parseltongue will be written in italics. All notes given to characters will be in block quote format.

Today it seemed Jane and Draco were both on edge.

Pansy had been on Draco's case since her arm was set on fire. Over and over again she claimed she was his girlfriend. She was at his side every possible waking moment, which kept him from staring at other girls and going about his Dark deeds. Not to mention the fact that school, homework, and Prefect duties were all getting in the way of his executing plots. And those plots were failing miserably.

Not only was Pansy causing problems for Draco, but also for Jane. Hermione had told Jane of the antics she had pulled for the last five years. It seemed those exact antics were being repeated onto Jane. Whenever they passed each other in the hall she would trip her, whisper callous things in her ear, or gossip loudly about her to her friends.

"So now I'm  _what?!"_  she asked Ron during lunch, who had just so happened to hear one of these gossip sessions.

"A – um – a – " Ron's ears turned bright red with embarrassment.

"A whore," Lavender sure had no problem in saying it.

_Impossible. Where the hell would I have time to have untold amounts of sex while on the run from Voldemort?!_

Lavender was another problem. She was all over Ron. She wouldn't let him out of her sight. Jane couldn't tell where one ended and the other began, and when the made out in public? Run for the hills. This new girlfriend of his also gave Hermione another reason not to speak with him. Her friend was slowly running out of places to hide from them. The girl's dormitory was no longer safe - countless nights had been spent listening to Lavender go on and on about how wonderful her and Ron were together, or in awkward silence with the girls glaring at each other from across the room. The common room wasn't her ideal place either, that's where Ron and Lavender would sometimes make out, leaving the only real place for Hermione to feel secure was the library.

Which was exactly where she was now.

The minute Lavender planted a sloppy kiss on Ron's lips, both Harry and Jane bolted out of their seats and ran for their lives.

"They really need to get a room," Jane expressed with disgust.

"Even homework is better than watching those two," Harry claimed, earning a laugh from Jane.

"I'm gonna go back to the common room. You wanna come along?"

"No thanks. I'm gonna walk around a bit. Do me a favor and check on Hermione for me?"

_Maybe I can find Pansy and punch her face in, and then hex Blaise when he comes after me. Wouldn't that be a nice way to let off some steam?_

As she mulled these thoughts of hurting Pansy and Blaise, among other things in her head, Jane wasn't watching where she was going, and she ended up bumping into the one person she did not want to see.

"Get your grubby blood traitor hands off me," Draco growled, roughly pushing her out of his way. This was the one time he'd been able to get away from Pansy in a week, and he wasn't too pleased that her presence was switched with someone he liked even less.

Jane was so not in the mood for this.

"What the hell is your problem?" she shouted.

Draco turned back to face her, his pointed face showing downright revulsion. The hall they stood in was entirely void of students, leaving them to deal with each other however they please.

"First you chase after me, then you completely ignore me, and now you sick your crazy bitch of a girlfriend on me!"

"She is  _not_  my girlfriend," he clarified, "I didn't sick her on you. And if I'm not mistaken, you attacked her first."

Jane continued to shout at the Slytherin boy, though he hardly listened. He was too focused on imagining severing her head off. All month he was trying to murder her. This girl just would not die. What did it take, the bloody Killing Curse?

She must have finished yelling at him. Jane turned, those long, slender legs leading her away. Just like they led her away after she murdered his father.

Something in Draco snapped.

_"Tarantallegra!"_

The sound of his voice shouting the spell made her turn back. A bolt of silver light shot from Draco's wand in her direction. Jane whipped out her wand and preformed the Shield Charm before the spell hit her.

"What the fuck are you doing now?!" she screamed angrily.

"Murderer!" he yelled, venom in his tone, "Killer!"

"Excuse me?" she asked.

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_  his wand still pointed intimidatingly at her. Jane blocked it with another Shield Charm as he advanced.

"Jane? What's going on?"

Ron and Lavender had rounded the corner in enough time to hear Draco's accusations. Ron stared at her incredulously, while Lavender looked horrified, straightaway accepting Draco's words as truth.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Ron demanded.

"Didn't tell them, did you Rodgers?" Draco shouted, face contorted in rage, "Didn't tell them you're a murderer, did you? Didn't tell your nasty Gryffindor friends you killed my father, did you?!"

Jane felt something invisible squeeze her heart. Lavender and Ron gasped in horror.

"Does the name Lucius Malfoy ring a bell?" Draco growled.

Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy . . .

No . . .

_It was_ _a dark, cloudy night. Everything was fine until she had entered an area with a Caterwauling Charm. The high pitched shriek made her fall to her knees and clasp her hands over her ears. The minute the charm turned off, she could hear the shouts of Death Eaters around her._

_"It's Janie!"_

_"That's her!"_

_"Grab her!"_

_There were too many of them. She wouldn't be able to get away without being seen. Using her quick thinking, Jane cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself. The charm mad_ _e_ _her almost invisible. To the idiots around her, she was completely invisible._

_"Hey, where'd she go?"_

_As quietly as she could, Jane tip toed out of the circle of Death Eaters. When she was far enough away, Jane made a run for it. Nevertheless, luck was not with her that night. The charm wore off when she met another group of the Dark Lord's followers._

_"Get her before she gets away!"_

_Jane ran down the street, her arms and legs pumping, her heart hammering. She panted, cold air rushing in and out of her lungs. Every now and then a spell flew near her. She pointed her wand over her shoulder and fired a few back._

_She tripped and went tumbling, rolling along the rocky asphalt and losing her wand in the process. She hurried to get up. Her wrist was grabbed unexpectedly and she was yanked upward, "Got you, you_ _little_ _brat,"_

_The pointed face and long, white blonde hair above her was vaguely recognized as Lucius Malfoy, one of the highest ranking Death Eaters. With an exceptionally tight clutch, he dragged her toward the others._

_"Let me go!" she shrieked, "Let me go!"_

_"Quiet, girl!"_

_Jane gritted her teeth and slammed her fist into the side of his face. Lucius dropped her and held his now bleeding nose, staggering in pain._

_"You insolent little horror!" he shouted, aiming a successful kick to her side. Jane grunted as the force pushed her away, her stomach heaving. Getting to her hands and knees, she crawled her way to her wand. They were closing in when she got to her feet. A wave of intense fear washed over her. She couldn't seem to breathe properly. Sweat covered her shaking body._

_"Get away from me!" Jane screamed, "Leave me alone! Get away!"_

_She couldn't go back to Voldemort. He would kill her. Or worse, brainwash her to do his bidding._

_She couldn't go back. She wouldn't go back. She would get away._

_You have to get away_ _, a voice swore in her head,_ _No matter what._

_"Leave me alone!" Jane repeated. She closed her eyes and gripped her wand, "Get away! GET AWAY!_ _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

_A bright flash of green light, and the eight people chasing her dropped dead without a word. Jane gasped in horror. She wasn't thinking when she did it, but she did._

_She killed them._

_"No," Jane let out a broken whisper. She glanced at the faces around her. There was no blood. No struggle. Their eyes were open, unblinking. These were people she just destroyed. Evil people, but people just the same. People with friends and family that cared about them, would never speak to them again. She felt her knees weaken._

_"No," she croaked, her throat tight, tears lining her eyes, "No. Oh, please, no," she let out a self-disgusted sob, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"_

_Something in her gut told her she needed to move on before anyone else saw her. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Jane closed the eyes of the departed and dragged them to the shade of a nearby tree before running away._

Jane came out of her flashback as the same curse she used on Pansy was aimed at her. Her skirt caught fire, and she quickly used the Aquamenti Charm to put it out before she was caught in a compromising predicament. Her temper flared, and without thinking she yelled, _"Densageo!"_

_"Salvio Hexia!"_  Draco reflected the spell, his teeth bared. Jane backed up to get a bit of leverage, and found Ron and his girlfriend still gaping at her.

"What are you staring at?" she shouted, "Go!"

Ron grabbed Lavender and led her out of the hallway just as Draco flung another hex at her. With each curse thrown, Jane's temper rose higher. Sometimes the spells missed, shattering glass and chipping stone. Draco was a pretty good fighter. Jane almost felt outmatched.

Almost.

As the duel grew out of hand, Jane focused on casting darker spells, rather than her own protection.

_"Mobilicorpus!"_

The spell broke through Jane's Shield Charm. She was lifted a few inches off the floor and slammed from wall to wall, the stone cracking where she hit it.

_"Reducto!"_

Jane's curse missed as she was tossed around, hitting a wall by Draco instead. A small patch of it exploded, causing rocks to fly. He lost control of the spell in trying to defend himself from the debris. Jane fell onto her feet a short measure from him. Her wand pointed threateningly at his chest, eyes blazing, her heart pumping wildly, her body trembling.

_Kill him,_  the voice cooed malevolently,  _Kill him._

She backed the boy into a wall. Draco shot her a fearful look, his eyes swimming in dread and the little color he had in his skin disappearing. Yet when he spoke to her, his voice was steady and venomous, "Going to kill me too? Going to kill another person? I bet this is fun for you.

"Was it fun killing him?" he snapped, "My father? Death Eaters enjoy murdering mercilessly. Do you want to be a Death Eater, Rodgers? Huh?"

_Do it now!_  the voice barked,  _Kill him! Now! Do it now!_

_"Avada Kedav -"_

But she stopped. Very slowly, the darkness that had taken her over ebbed away. Her mind cleared of any murderous thoughts. Jane's eyes widened in shock. She looked at her wand, and then dropped it like it was burning her.

Draco stared inquisitively as the girl backed away. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. He heard a sob soar from her throat as she turned and ran.

* * *

"You almost killed a student!"

Her wand lay before her on Dumbledore's desk. Professor McGonagall paced behind her, the embodiment of anxiety and fury. Jane's hands were clasped together in her lap, her head hanging.

She almost killed him.

"What do we do with her, Albus?" McGonagall inquired. Jane's temper flickered as the teacher talked like she wasn't there.

Dumbledore stood at one of the small windows. It had gotten so cold outside with winter approaching, but not yet snowing. The sky had already turned dark; stars poked out of the blackness. He didn't answer McGonagall at first.

The wait for his answer was going to drive Jane crazy.

The headmaster gave the pupil a hard, pondering stare. Jane did not return this gaze. She persisted to look at her hands. The hands of a murderer.

"Ms. Rodgers will not be expelled," he decided.

Jane felt no rejoice at this announcement.

"But she almost killed Draco Malfoy! Think of the safety of the students. She's a danger to everyone,"

"If we expelled students for endangering each other, we wouldn't have enough of them to run a school,"

"Albus -"

"Minerva, Ms. Rodgers is my responsibility, and therefore I will decide what to do with her. She will not be expelled. But she will be severely punished,"

She almost killed him.

For the rest of the term, Jane had detention every Monday, and she was forbidden from going to Hogsmeade. Professor McGonagall escorted her back to the tower after they had finished discussing her punishment. Neither of them were willing to talk, making it a very long and silent walk.

McGonagall left her at the portrait hole. The fat lady in the pink dress looked down upon her with a sultry expression on her chubby face.

"So," he stated, "Killed people, have you?"

If possible, her heart dropped out of her chest even further.

"W-What?" she stuttered.

"If you try and go after me because you can't get your way, I'll be sure to get myself some body guards. Lots and lots of body guards."

_Stop,_ she thought desperately,  _Just stop talking._

"Dilligrout,"

The fat lady opened for her without another word and Jane stepped inside. A few seconds later she wished she hadn't.

So many people stared at her.

So many mutterings and whispers.

It all stopped when she entered the common room. The nervous atmosphere turned to one of fear. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

_They all know._

Jane gulped and walked forward. The people in her way quickly hurried to the sidelines. No one would touch her. When she looked at someone, they would elude their gaze. As she passed, some people even took out their wands in case something bad occurred.

_This can't be happening._

She got to the staircase without anyone stopping her. Jane was trembling, her breathing irregular. Lavender, Pavarti, and Hermione were in the dormitory when she arrived. Pavarti gasped when she saw her and backed into a corner. Lavender gaped at her, dumbfounded.

"Wha -? You didn't get expelled?" she asked, "Why weren't you expelled?"

Jane paused and glanced at her. It was her. Lavender told everyone. If she weren't so crestfallen, she might have started screaming.

"You told everyone what he said," she accused softly.

"Well of course I did. Everyone has the right to know there's a murderer living with us,"

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Lavender," Hermione whispered.

The girl in question rested on the side of her bed, shoulders slumped. She glanced at Jane through a curtain of hair. Her eyes shown with questions she didn't want to know the answer to. Jane knew Hermione well enough to know that she was going to ask anyway.

"Jane . . . did you . . . did you really . . . ?"

Jane opened her mouth to answer. Her voice refused to make its appearance. And anyway, Lavender was more than happy to answer for her.

"Of course she did! Look how guilty she is!"

She almost killed him.

Her knees were beginning to weaken as the events of the night overwhelmed her. Jane made her way numbly to the other side of the room, Lavender's gossip flying right over her head. Once she was in bed, with the covers pulled over her blonde head, she allowed tears and silent sobs.

Draco Malfoy was right.

Jane was a murderer.

She was no worse than a Death Eater.

* * *

Pansy's fury instantaneously vanished once the news of Draco and Jane's duel traveled around the school.

"Oh, Malfoy, my poor baby, are you alright?"

Draco had his own meeting with Dumbledore, the new Slytherin Head of House, Slughorn, and strangely Snape as well. Snape managed to talk his punishment from a semester of detention to a month. Pansy ran up to him, regardless of Blaise's attempts to hold her back, and tackled the blonde haired teenager.

"Get off, Pans," Draco struggled to push her away.

"I knew that girl was no good! I knew it!"

Her annoying pestering stopped unexpectedly. Pansy's expression softened and she released Draco from her grip.

"Did she really kill your father?" she questioned.

He nodded.

"Oh Malfoy, I'm so sorry," she clasped her hands over her mouth.

Draco said nothing. Instead he trotted over to the boy's dormitory. At the entrance, Draco stopped and called over his shoulder, "It wasn't just my father. She killed seven others as well. They were all Death Eaters,"

He was certain Pansy would be spreading that around, too.

There were so many questions running in his mind. The main one being . . . why didn't she kill him? He wound his head around the subject for the last few hours and couldn't find a solution. She had him backed up against the wall, just about to finish the curse.

So why didn't she?

The look in her eyes before . . . there was no sense in them whatsoever. No reason. A darkness had come over her being. And after . . . she looked sickened with herself. Horrified, like her worst nightmare come true.

Why did she run away?

Monday came, and Jane still lay in bed, the covers tucked up to her chin. She had been unresponsive all weekend, trapped with her own thoughts. The only person that bothered her was Hermione.

"Jane," she whispered, "You need to get up. Please,"

She was surprised that Hermione was even speaking to her.

"You're going to be late for class if you don't get up,"

_Who cares?_

"Although, who cares, right?" she spoke Jane's thoughts as she sank onto the edge of Jane's bed, "School has become so small in importance anymore . . . Jane, did you really kill Malfoy's father?"

_The truth is already out. There's no point in hiding it._

Jane sat up and ran her hand through her hair. Her eyes were tinted red around the edges from two days' worth of crying. She glanced up at Hermione.

"I-I did," she croaked, her words garbled due to a dry throat. Hermione got her a glass of water, which she took gratefully.

"I did," she repeated, carefully watching Hermione's reaction.

"And . . . there was talk about seven other people. Death Eaters. Did you kill them too?"

Talk around the school. No doubtfully from the Slytherins. Sons and daughters of the Death Eaters . . .

Draco Malfoy.

"Yes," Jane admitted. She took a gulp of the water, "So . . . what's everyone saying about me?"

The bushy haired girl adverted her gaze for the moment, "Well, everyone's afraid of you," and then her expression turned sort of sheepish, "And yet – mostly everyone from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and a few Ravenclaw think you are pretty brave,"

She almost choked on her water, "Brave?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, "They think you're brave for taking on eight Death Eaters,"

"It wasn't brave. It was terrible. It was cowardly," Jane insisted, beginning to quiver.

"Shh. Calm down," Hermione rubbed her shoulder gently, "Everything's okay,"

"It's not okay," Jane whispered brokenly, "It will never be okay. You don't understand,"

"You obviously feel bad about it,"

_Do I ever._

"The rumors will die down in a few days. The school will find something else to gossip about,"

Jane halfheartedly accepted her words before sinking into her bed. Hermione took this as a sign she wouldn't be attending classes. How could she? Everyone would stare at her like some kind of monster.

"What was your punishment?" she asked.

"Detention every Monday. No more Hogsmeade until the end of term,"

"Today is Monday,"

"Is it?" she sighed regretfully, "Guess I'll be getting out of bed later today then,"

Hermione stood and went to the door. Jane stopped her before she could leave. One thing was majorly bugging her.

"Are we . . . are we still -?"

"I'm still your friend, Jane,"

_Not for long. Not if you ever discover who I really am._


	10. Memory Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of killing Dumbledore in his 6th year, Draco Malfoy's mission is to kill a witch his age named Jane Rodgers. Draco has no problem with this, seeing as Jane killed his father. Problem is . . . he has no idea who she is or what she looks like, only her name.
> 
> In an attempt to keep her safe, Dumbledore accepts Jane into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Jane is a girl with an attitude, a HUGE temper, and a dark past. For one, she could technically qualify as Lord Voldemort's daughter. She knows everything he knows about the Dark Arts, but tries to avoid it all. She also has a piece of information Dumbledore needs, another reason that he relocated her to Hogwarts.
> 
> However, Jane is so mysterious that Draco slowly becomes fascinated with her. He has to choose whether to follow orders and gain glory and power, or risk his life for a romantic relationship.

She wanted to run away.

Jane went back to class a few days later. As she predicted, the rest of the student body skirted around her, avoiding her as much as possible. They whispered discourteous things behind her back, and if she ever caught them, their faces would turn red and they would run away, afraid she would curse them. The school was in such an uproar, it almost seemed that she, Harry, and Draco were at a tie for Hogwarts attention.

She actively tried to avoid Draco Malfoy, skipping any classes she might have with them, which were four – so she assumed. The thought of ever seeing that boy again drove knots in her stomach. She couldn't face him after she took his father's life, and almost his own. Jane single handedly just about ruined his life, she supposed. She didn't know what he was like, or his life. She'd only heard the rumors.

And good God, were rumors flying everywhere. Hermione was right, most of the school thought she was brave for fighting eight Death Eaters alone (that fact was solid.) The Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws, however, gained a reason to hate yet another Gryffindor. It wasn't just Pansy being cruel to her anymore. It was the entire house. They all wondered why she hadn't been expelled yet, why she hadn't been taken to Azkaban yet. They presumed correctly that she used the Killing Curse, although the only people that could prove that theory were dead.

Jane was starting to lose it again. This fearful attention she was receiving was getting to her nerves fairly quickly. She was perfectly fine just slipping into the crowd and being like everyone else. Now she was only lucky enough to find time when people weren't looking at her. She wanted to escape, run away from Hogwarts and back on the street. More than likely Dumbledore wouldn't allow that, and security around the castle was too heavy for her to run off into the night. If she were ever to leave, it would have to be during the holidays, when students were allowed to return home.

"Jane, you have to go to Potions. You've skipped it for the last two months, and if you skip any more, you're going to get into big trouble,"

Jane gave Hermione a look.

"Well, more trouble than you already are," she corrected.

"Fine," she huffed, "Fine, fine. Whatever. I'll go,"

Perhaps brewing could get her mind off the current epidemic.

Hermione and Jane entered the dungeon class room to find it filled with smoke and a mixture of . . . exceptionally pleasant scents. She could smell peppermint, her pillow, rain, and . . . something else. A scent unknown, but she fell in love with it after one whiff.

"Come on in, come on in," a loud, gruff voice sounded. As the smoke cleared some, the silhouette of the professor came into view, waving a large cloth around, "Just a little accident, nothing to worry about. My last session had a little predicament. One of them spilled their Amortentia potion onto the fire,"

"Amortentia?" Jane inquired, "Is that why I smell -?"

"Whatever attracts you? Yes," Hermione answered.

The girls walked into the smokey classroom, coughing a bit as they moved. Jane halted and made a break for the exit.

Because sitting at the Slytherin table was Draco Malfoy.

"No you don't," Harry and Ron stopped her at the doorway. For some reason they decided to stay her friends as well. Ron grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, forcing her to go to the table the Gryffindors sat at. Earnie Macmillan was currently in the hospital wing, so there wouldn't be a seating issue.

"No, I can't -" she protested under her breath.

"You're going to have to deal with it," Ron told her, "You knew you were going to have to face him sometime. Might as well do it now,"

The second she sat down, the Slytherins went into a flurry of crude comments. Jane inhaled deeply and took the slightest peek over her shoulder. Draco was not partaking in the tales. He sat slumped over in his chair, fist in his cheek and fingers drumming rapidly on the table. It looked like he had better places to be than here.

After managing to flush out the smoke, Professor Slughorn stood before her, examining the student that has been missing for months, "Now who might this lovely child be?"

It felt rather disgusting to be called lovely by a man who simply . . . wasn't.

"Jane Rodgers, sir," she introduced.

"Ah, the one who's disappeared off my role call for a certain extent of time," he acknowledged, "Well, it's nice to finally meet you,"

A Slytherin was hit by a series of coughs that he blamed the smoke on, but Jane distinctly heard the words  _Blood Traitor Assassin_ between hacks.

"I thought we'd take it a bit easy today and brew the Forgetfulness Potion," Slughorn broadcasted once the class was in session.

Hermione's hand shot in the air, "Sir, we already learned to make the Forgetfulness Potion. We did it for exams in our first year,"

"Yes, Professor Snape informed me on that. However, this is a stronger and more precise version of the Forgetfulness Potion. Depending on the few absolute ingredients you use, you can control the length of memory loss. You will find the instructions and ingredients on page 243 in your textbooks,"

The class was divided into predetermined teams within their houses. Jane was partnered up with Harry while Ron and Hermione were to work together - they weren't too happy about that. Jane, however, had no problem being placed with one of the two smartest kids in the class.

Jane went to open her never-been-used potions book before as Harry set up the pewter cauldron and started the fire.

"Wait, let's use my book," he suggested. Jane shrugged and picked up his copy instead, flipping to the proper page.

_**Forgetfulness Potion (Advanced)** _

**_Effects:_ ** _Causes memory loss for a certain amount of time._

_**I** _ **_ngredients:_ ** _2 drops Lethe River Water,_ _2 Valerian Sprigs,_ _4 Mistletoe Berries_

**_Timing:_ ** _Add these ingredients for desired memory loss time_

_1 lump Petroleum Jelly (10 minutes)_ _  
_3 dashes Cinnamon (30 minutes)_   
_2 pairs Fairy Wings (1 hour)_   
_1 Hellebore + 3 Snakeweed (4 hours)_   
_4 Newts + 1 Snake fang (1 day)_   
_5 Tubeworms + 3 drops Vinegar (3 days)_   
_7 Wartizome (1 week)_   
_14 Wartizome (2 weeks)_   
_8 Spiders + 2 Sardines + 1 lump Pus (1 month)_   
_3 pairs Fairy Wings + 3 Snakeweed (6 months)_   
_9 dashes Cinnamon + 6 Wartizome + 2 drops Urine + 4 Spiders (1 year)_ _

"We were assigned to do the three day one, right?" Harry asked as the fire got going.

"Yeah, so we need tubeworms and vinegar,"

The Half Blood Prince had written over this potion recipe as well. For example, where it said to gently heat the Lethe River Water for twenty seconds, the time was crossed out and replaced with forty-five seconds. Instead of crushing the Mistletoe Berries, the previous owner said to put them in the cauldron without so much as a dent.

"Do you want me to follow the . . . suggestions?" she whispered. Harry glanced over the directions before nodding silently. Jane nodded back and went to chop the tubeworms in half. When she was finished with that task, she didn't put down the knife. Instead, she stared at its sharp blade. It hypnotized her so completely.

_Just a little cut,_ the voice wished,  _Just a small one. It won't hurt anything._

She held the knife to her wrist over a blue vein.

"Jane?"

Jane came out of her trance and glimpsed at Harry. She blinked a few times and set the knife down as subtly as possible. Then she picked up the textbook and acted as though she were rereading the instructions, while she listened to the conversation around her. Slughorn hollered encouraging quotes, Ron and Hermione worked awkwardly, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein bickered on how many times to stir the potion, Su Li and Stephen Cornfoot happily chattered, and the Slytherins sustained their false accusations of her.

A piece of scrap parchment slid towards her.

_**Are you okay? – H** _

Jane looked at Harry before writing down her reply.

_**I'm fine. – J** _

_**You look nervous. – H** _

_**I'm not. – J** _

Harry snuck a look at Draco as Jane stirred the cauldron. He scribbled a few words down and passed the parchment over.

_**Is it because of Malfoy? – H** _

She looked down at the knife again.

_Just a tiny cut,_ the voice begged.

When no one was looking, especially Harry, Jane slipped the knife into her robes. Then she took up the quill and wrote back to him.

_**I'm fine, Harry. – J** _

Harry gave her an irritated look, but dropped the subject, and they went on with their work. Harry added the last two ingredients into the cauldron while Jane stirred.

"Now we just have to let it brew for fifty-one minutes," Harry informed.

Jane let go of the spoon and rubbed her hands over her arms for warmth. Goosebumps had risen on her medium toned skin and could not be warmed by the fire. The weight of the knife in her pocket became increasingly noticeable with every second.

"Jane, you look like you're going to pass out," Ron noticed.

"Did your cold heart finally get to you, Rodgers?" Theodore Nott muttered to her. This earned a few snickers from his fellow house members.

"Time's up!" Professor Slughorn called, "Let's see what you've got."

The Slytherins all did well on their potions, considering they were told to make the hardest ones. Boot and Goldstein's potion was too watery, and wouldn't likely make you forget what you had for breakfast that morning. Li and Cornfoot, who weren't paying any attention to what they were doing, put the wrong combination of ingredients together, their potion being a complete dud. Ron and Hermione received top marks for their perfect attempt, only because Hermione did all the work.

"And now, let's see what Mr. Potter and Ms. Rodgers have cooked up for us,"

Their potion had come out with a frothy potency and turned a creamy color because of the tubeworms. It was impossible for these facts to give off whether they concocted their brew correctly. Everyone else's potion was different in strength and hue as well.

As the teacher examined their work, Jane's ears picked up Theodore Nott's snuffling voice, "Watch this, this is gonna be great. Blood Traitor Assassin will never know what hit her,"

"Ah yes," Professor Slughorn huffed contently, "Gather 'round, everyone. Gather 'round," the rest of the class crowded around their cauldron, "I do believe Potter and Rodgers have made the best three day Forgetfulness Potion I've ever seen. Perfect potency and everything,"

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw something in Nott's hands. A beaker, and he was ready to throw it. She nudged Hermione and Harry to get their attention, then discreetly motioned to the Slytherin boy.

When Nott threw the heavy object into the pewter cauldron, they were ready. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Jane ducked underneath the table as the potion splashed. Three of the Slytherins did the same, snorting beneath their own table, but extremely disappointed that Jane was not in the line of fire. The people above them screamed as they were drenched. Professor Slughorn managed to get out of the way before the potion touched him. The lucky ones stood once the commotion died down, careful not to touch anything.

Su Li, Terry Boot, and Draco Malfoy were soaking with the Forgetfulness Potion.

"Oh dear!" Professor Slughorn blabbered, "Oh my!"

Draco shook the potion off him as best he could, glancing down at his clothes with repugnance. He closed his eyes for a moment and his face pinched up.

"Malfoy? What's wrong?" Blaise asked.

"N-Nothing. I'm fine," he said, yet he sank onto the closest table he could find. The other two did the same, holding their heads in their hands with a slightly pained look.

"My head," Boot groaned.

"That would be the effects of the potion working," Professor Slughorn explained, "A slight headache as the memories temporarily disappear,"

"How much time will they have lost?" Hermione asked.

Draco lifted his head a moment later, wearing a slightly dazed expression. He glanced around the room, at the cauldron next to Harry with a beaker in it, the creamy potion staining the floor and walls, and his clothes once more. His features turned disgusted once more, and then angry. He directed his gaze back to Harry.

"Potter! What have you done! You wait until my father hears about this!"

"Several months," Slughorn answered.

Jane killed Lucius Malfoy on an April night, eight months ago.

* * *

The difference between Draco now and the Draco before his father died was astonishing. This Draco Malfoy believed himself to be superior in every way possible. He was a pureblood. He was a Slytherin. And he was very wealthy.

For the next three days, he walked the halls of the castle like he owned them. This boy exuberated confidence. He was manipulative, powerful, and he knew it. Draco could charm any girl, any student, any teacher he wanted, and if his charm didn't work, he always had money to back him up.

Jane found this confidence to be quite exciting.

But Draco Malfoy was a bully, and narcissistic, and arrogant. He boasted about his family's influence on the school and the ministry.

"Father and the Prime Minister are to have lunch on the twelfth. He wants to run some ideas by him that he thinks should be laws,"

He was vulgar in humor, showboating for his house as he mercilessly terrorized students he thought beneath him.

"Longbottom is a humiliation to pure bloods. The git can't even preform a simple spell or brew a potion without screwing it up. Why they permitted that poor excuse for a wizard into this school, I'll never know,"

And you know what else? Jane was back on Draco's flirting list. On the second day of his amnesia, he saw her walking out of Charms class and a wolfish smile appeared on his lips. When he leaned in close to her, his hand resting on her shoulder, "Did you use  _Relashio_? Because there are sparks between us,"

Pansy appeared at that moment and gave Jane a sneer worthy of Draco himself. She snatched his hand away from her, "Malfoy, you don't want to flirt with someone as disgusting as that," and she dragged him down the hall. Jane quietly followed them and hid around the corner.

"Blimey Pansy, what is your problem? She looked damn fine to me,"

"For one, I'm your  _girlfriend_ , two, she's a Gryffindor, and three . . . Malfoy, that girl killed your father,"

"What? No, my father is alive. I saw him just before we got on the train,"

"No, he's dead. He was killed a few months ago,"

The rest of the conversation passed in a low whisper that Jane couldn't hear. But from his tone she could tell he didn't believe a word she said, and after that Pansy wasn't seen near Draco until he regained his memory.

As the time went by, she noticed that Draco didn't exactly have any friends. He had minions, fan girls, or acquaintances. No one to support him fully. Crabbe and Goyle followed him like the mindless brutes they were. Pansy poured herself over him, and he lapped up the attention, and Draco could never control Blaise, but was often found in his company.

Jane observed the major personality change the morning of the fourth day after Potions class. The dauntless leer and presumptuous swagger disappeared completely, and his boasting and bullying ceased. Instead of strutting through the halls, he skirted through them. Dark circles formed under his eyes, and his skin turned an even paler color. Draco reverted from a pompous jerk to a quiet, plotting young man that seemed to be drowning. The events of the last few months came back to him heavily.

"I never noticed how much he's changed," Hermione said, "It's sad, really,"

"Very sad," Jane agreed.

"Malfoy hasn't changed," Harry insisted, "He'll always be a slimy prick," and Ron agreed wholeheartedly.

Jane missed the confident boy.

* * *

Draco woke up in the morning expecting a letter from his mother and father. Instead, he received a pounding in his head and a nauseous stomach. He pushed the sheets from his body and ran for the window.

"What's wrong with me?" he groaned after wiping his mouth. A layer of sweat covered his body, and it felt like something was trying to force its way into his head.

He was in his sixth year.

His father wasn't alive, like he thought. His father was dead.

A girl his age named Jane Rodgers murdered him.

Jane Rodgers was at Hogwarts.

The Dark Lord had ordered him to kill her.

He was a Death Eater.

No . . . no, he wasn't . . .

Draco made sure no one was in the sixth year boys' dormitory before yanking the sleeve of his shirt up. Sure enough, a large, black skull with a snake protruding from its mouth was burned into his skin. A stone of terror dropped in his stomach and he leaned out the window again.

He was a Death Eater.

He had to kill someone.

And for the first time since he received the Dark Mark, Draco was scared.

 


	11. Forgiveness

Thankfully, the last day for beautiful weather was on a Saturday, and Jane was alone. Hermione chose to stay in the library, Ron was probably sucking face with Lavender, and Harry was God knows where. She didn't care. As long as Jane was out of the sight of the student body, she was happy.

It was a sunny day, but not very bright. A grey hue had been dropped over nature. The sky was grey, the water was grey, even the grass and trees had a depressing shade to them. There was not a cloud in the sky, and no wind to cast ripples in the Black Lake. All was silent.

Jane strolled along the bank of this lake as slow as she could, her hands held behind her. There was no one to watch her, no one to ridicule her, and no one to fear her. This was paradise. She reached a lonely oak tree right next to the Black Lake. Jane gently sank to the ground, and enjoyed the breath-taking view, taking a moment to think.

Dumbledore wanted something from her. Jane first suspected this when he found her and brought her to the school. Her suspicions were confirmed when he refused to expel her. He wanted to know about her life, including the darkest parts. Literally.

Jane knew the information she possessed could help him. She didn't know what he was after, but knew she could help, and it puzzled her why she didn't try and be more open with him. Dumbledore could be trusted, right?

Something flickered under the water, catching Jane's attention. Jane stood to get a look at a higher angle, but there was nothing there. She took out her wand and carefully stepped to the very edge of the lake, peering into the depths. A tiny but radiant glimmer wavered at the bottom. She treaded into the shallow end, the clear and cold liquid sloshing around her calves. Jane squinted, trying to determine what the object was.

Suddenly a twisted, slimy webbed hand reached out and wrapped around Jane's ankle. It dragged her down, making her lose her wand in the process.

* * *

Draco's time was spent either in the Astronomy tower or in the Room of Requirement when he wasn't in classes, and even when he was supposed to be. Today it was the Astronomy tower which overlooked the grounds, the lake, and the Forbidden Forest. All was quiet, and the only movement were the birds heading south for winter, and –

\- Jane Rodgers walking along the edge of the lake.

He moved closer to the railing, following her with his eyes. He watched as she leveled with a tree, sat down, and got up again. She leaned over the lake's edge. She wandered into the water, searching for something.

And then she was pulled under. Draco tensed, his eyes glued on where he vanished. Where did she go? What pulled her down? And why wasn't she coming back up?

He waited a few seconds, waited for her to resurface, before dashing from the Astronomy tower.

* * *

Jane gasped as the freezing liquid covered her. She looked at her ankle; a Grindylow. a water demon, had its brittle but strong hand wrapped around her, dragging her down. She kicked at it, trying to shake it off. Some of its buddies joined in, grabbing at her robes, her arms, her hair. The water around her grew darker as they pulled her into the unknown depths. Jane fought the creatures, groping for her wand. It wasn't there, however, she couldn't find it anywhere.

The chilling water forced its way into her throat and lungs. She could feel it pressing in on all sides, squeezing her tightly, like she was caught in the death grip of a cobra. Her eyelids drooped lazily and her muscles went limp. The last of her air escaped through her lips.

A bright flash of light flowed from above, and then jets of brilliant orange flames shot down around her. They slammed into the water creatures and they screamed, swiping at their burnt heads. In her last moments of mental consciousness Jane registered searing pain at the flesh of her back. She felt an arm wrap around her waist and drag her up. Her head broke the surface. Jane choked and sputtered, eyes snapping open. She and her rescuer crawled up to the shore and flopped down, gasping for air. Once she regained breath, her sight drifted to the person lying beside her.

Draco Malfoy.

Jane didn't get up. Didn't run. Couldn't run. Beside the fact her waterlogged garments weighed her down, she felt her stomach had gained a thousand pounds. Draco coughed a few times and shook his head free of water. He refused to look at her, even for a moment. When he finally did, the task proved to be extremely difficult. They stared at each other tensely.

"I think a thank you is in order," he huffed, pushing his blonde hair aside.

Jane just stared at him.

"What?"

She let another seconds silence pass before screaming, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"You flirt with me! You ignore me! You attack me! And now you save me? Are you fucking insane?! Draco Malfoy, you are the most complicated person I have ever met!"

He gritted his teeth against the vulgar thoughts in his head, "You're welcome,"

Too exhausted to hold herself up, Jane let her body fall face first into the grass, her face turned towards him. She was so tired, she couldn't even keep her eyes open, "How?" she panted, "Why?"

"I was at the Astronomy Tower when I saw you go under," he said, "Why? I have no clue,"

_Because if you're going to die, it's going to be at my hands and no one else's,_ Draco thought.

"After all I've done to you, I wouldn't blame you for letting me drown,"

When he stayed silent, she chose to let her eyes flutter open. Draco had sat up, and was staring at her. His bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she refused to let them fall. She needed to say this while looking at him.

"I'm sorry, Draco," a lump in her throat prevented her from speaking clearly. She cleared it and tried again, "I'm sorry I . . . killed your father. I am so sorry that I took him away from you,"

She was . . . sorry?

Jane finally had the strength to push herself into a sitting position. She swept her hair over her shoulder and wrenched it to rid the strands from water. At this point she looked at her crossed knees. The parts she needed to say were done. She had gotten the chance to apologize for the horrible deed on her head.

"I know you'll never forgive me, and that it won't change anything. But . . ." her words trailed off.

_She looks so guilty,_ Draco realized,  _She feels guilty._

This appalled him. For months he had thought that Jane Rodgers was a cold, heartless girl who mercilessly slayed his father. But when he saw how remorseful she looked, how distraught . . . and the fact that she was  _apologizing_ to him . . . could he have been wrong?

_No,_ he thought bitterly,  _This changes nothing._

He saw the way she attacked Pansy. The look in her eye when she was about to kill him, what happened when she lost control.  _That_ was the girl that killed Lucius Malfoy. Not this feeble, mortified female.

_But I'll never be able to assassinate her with my pathetic attempts._

He needed to get on her good side. He needed her to trust him, and when she had put faith in him, he would betray her in the most brutal of ways.

He needed to be her . . . friend.

Draco was so consumed by his thoughts that he didn't realize she had begun speaking again.

"And I'm sorry for . . . almost killing you,"

_Become friends with the girl that murdered my father and almost murdered me,_ he thought with dark humor, _What a laugh!_

"I attacked you," he corrected, holding back the acrimony, "I threw the first spell,"

"But I -"

"Rodgers," he interrupted. Draco closed his eyes, clasping his hands together. He could do this, he had to do this.  _Imagine her before you knew who she was,_ he suggested to himself, _That hot, mysterious blood traitor witch. Imagine her._

Against every nerve in his body, every cell in his brain, ever fiber in his being, Draco looked her dead in the eye and said, "I forgive you,"

Jane remained emotionless. Her heart did not swell in joy at being forgiven. She was confused. This wasn't right, this was improbable.

"How can you?" she whispered, voice barely audible, "I don't expect you to,"

"Look, I . . ." he paused, pondering his words, "I don't want to be bereaved or enraged anymore. I want to move on, and I can't do that unless I . . . I forgive you,"

She took this in and nodded in understanding. Then Jane closed her eyes and whispered, "Thank you,"

The sky above them began to darken as the sun sank. The lukewarm temperature dropped, and a wind swept across the grounds, picking the leaves off the trees and rustling the grass. The two shivered, their clothes still damp. Jane winced as the breeze lashed out at the burns on her back.

"What's wrong?" he tried to put concern in his voice.

"Burns on my back," she answered, "We should get inside before we catch a cold,"

Draco let her go ahead of him in order to examine the condition of her burnt flesh quietly. Long, red streaks decorated her back, obviously hurting her. Draco grinned nastily. They strolled up to the front door and went their separate ways, Jane going to the upper levels of the castle and Draco to the dungeons.

Hermione looked up from her homework when the portrait swung aside, revealing Jane in her drenched clothes.

"Why are you wet?" her chocolate brown eyes squinted in confusion, tailing Jane as she went up to the girls' dormitory and stopping short at the burns on her back, "And what happened to your back?!"

"I – um – was by the lake and got pulled in by Grindylows," Jane answered truthfully.

Thankfully their dorm was uninhabited. Hermione closed the door while her friend delved through her trunk for some dry clothes, "And I used fire to get rid of them and ended up burning my back,"

"You might have to go to the hospital wing," Hermione suggested, inspecting Jane's back from afar, "They look really bad, and I don't know if Episky will heal them properly,"

Jane's groan was muffled by her wet black T Shirt being pulled over her head.

The stone wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin common room slid aside and Draco stomped in, brushing his sopping wet hair from his face. Pansy looked up from the fire over the back of her chair.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"None of your business," was the only thing he said before going to his own dormitory for warmer garments.

 


	12. Conversation With a Death Eater

On Monday night, Jane was ordered to do her detention with Professor Snape, much to her delight. It was a last minute notice when Ron's little sister handed her a note in the common room with the location and time. The Potion's Room, eight o' clock.

"That's in thirty minutes, and the Potion's room is several floors down," Hermione warned, "You better get going,"

Jane bolted through the castle as quickly as she could, only to make it ten minutes late. Professor Snape met her at the door to the classroom.

"You're late," he stated in his monotone tone.

"Yeah, I noticed that," Jane countered. Being in the teacher's presence put her on edge. She knew he could call Voldemort using the Dark Mark at any moment and alert him of her location, and there was no doubt in her mind that if he was a true supporter of the Dark Lord, he could kill her at any point in time as well.

"You'll be taking the labels off of every ingredient beginning with A through G and rewriting them," he described as he led her into the darkened classroom, "And no magic,"

_When does anyone ever get to use magic in detention?_  she thought.

The first few hours were spent silently. Snape sat at one of the tables and watched her while he graded papers. The longer she stayed in his presence, the more her nerves sizzled. How could he pretend he was nothing more than a teacher everyone hated? How could he pretend he didn't know who she was? Without even thinking, she spoke quickly, "Why do you follow him?"

When there was no answer, Jane turned from the shelves to face the man. Snape looked directly at her, tip of his quill held just above the stack of parchment, "Follow who?" he asked slowly.

"You know who," she replied.

Snape stared at her a moment longer before setting his quill into the ink bottle, "That is none of your concern, Ms. Rodgers,"

She felt sickened to be having this conversation. Jane rapidly turned to the shelves to gaze at anything other than his face. She actually had the chance to be talking to one of the Dark Lord's followers, instead of being chased by them, and yet it scared her to be talking to him like this. Chasing she would have much preferred.

"Does he know where I am?"

". . . yes,"

Jane felt her knees buckle.

_Do something,_ she hissed,  _Distract yourself._

She walked a little ways down the rows of ingredients to the section that started with D. Picking up a bottle of Dandelion roots, Jane used her fingernails to peel off the label. There were so many questions she had. How many could she ask without losing her nerve? How many would he be willing to answer?

"Does he still want me dead?"

". . . yes,"

"Did you tell him where I was?"

". . . no,"

Voldemort knew where she was. He wanted her dead. It was only a matter of time before something happened that would make her leave the school. That's what always happened. Jane never stayed anywhere long before they found her. There were only so many times she could escape.

"Are you going to kill me, Severus?"

"That's  _Professor Snape_  to you, girl," Snape corrected. But he didn't answer her question. Jane was very aware of her wand pressed against her leg. Right now she could die, at this very moment.

"No," he said, returning to his grading, "I will not kill you. As long as you are under Dumbledore's protection, you are safe, Ms. Rodgers. As long as you stay inside the castle, you are safe,"

For some reason she didn't think so.

Jane heard Snape's chair scrape and his footsteps coming to her, causing her to tense and her hand grip her wand. The teacher stopped and examined the shelves she had been working on, "I think you've been working a little too hard. You may leave now,"

Jane raised an eyebrow. She had never heard anyone say Snape had let them out of detention early. In fact he was known to prolong it.

"But I haven't finished -"

"You will be having detention with me again next week. You can finish then. Now go before I change my mind,"

She found herself an hour later inside a bathroom as far from Gryffindor Tower as she could get. Jane stared at her reflection in the mirror, sweeping her hair to the side or pinching her cheek. Everything about her face and body were perfect. If someone looked at her, they would find a beautiful witch, perhaps with a great personality.

But on the inside she was anything but perfect. She was lost and confused on the inside. On the inside she was Dark. When Jane looked in the mirror, she saw someone else. A faceless person controlling her body, a person who enjoyed lying, cheating, and hurting people. A being that made her do terrible things, forced her to use what she was taught at a young age. It was the voice and her temper that controlled Jane, not her.

Jane drew a shuddering breath and glimpsed at her hand. The grip she had on the potion's knife was loose, hesitant. Her heart rattled in her ribcage. Her limbs shook with fear.

How Draco? How could he have pardoned her? Why? She didn't deserve forgiveness. She deserved to die. It couldn't have been possible, could it? To forgive a murderer that killed your loved one, and then acquit the same cutthroat for nearly destroying you? It was inhuman for this kind of remission. Harry hadn't forgiven Voldemort for killing  _his_ parents.

Voldemort . . . he would not let up until she was dead at his bare feet. Jane knew too much about the Dark Arts; she was a threat to him, to his cause and his life, she knew that.

_That's right,_ the voice cooed while the cold rushed in,  _Just a small slit. Let's get rid of some of that stress._

Jane snapped her eyes shut in fright as she slid the blade across her wrist, gasping at the sudden pain. The contrast of the blood and her tan skin made her heart stop in shock. It was a shallow cut, but the blood steadily flowed from her veins, dripping into the white sink. The sound bounced off the walls of the empty restroom, driving into her ears.

_Physical pain to make the mental pain go away. Doesn't that feel better?_

No. It made her feel worse.

A single tear slipping down her cheek, Jane hurried to wash away the red substance and went back to the common room. In a corner she spotted her friends huddled together, and was about to join them until she heard her name being whispered. As an alternative she dropped down behind a suit of armor and listened intently.

"All I'm saying is, don't you think Jane should be in Azkaban or a muggle prison? I mean, she did kill eight people. Ministry should have caught up to her by now," Ron whispered.

"That's what I've heard the Slytherins saying," Harry agreed, "It's just too strange,"

"Maybe she didn't kill them?" Hermione suggested hopefully.

"Hermione, are you daft?" hissed Ron, "You told us yourself that she said she killed them,"

"She could have been lying?"

"Malfoy said she murdered his father, didn't he Ron?" Harry asked.

"Malfoy could have been lying as well,"

"Why would anyone admit they killed when they didn't? Honestly, I thought you were smarter than that,"

"Ronald Weasley, if you insult me one more time, I'm cursing you," Hermione claimed, "Jane is our friend. We shouldn't be talking about her like this,"

"The whole situation is odd, admit it," said Harry.

Hermione paused before speaking in a tone lower than a whisper, "It is suspicious, all of it. But I still feel we need to give her the benefit of the doubt,"

"You always think the best of everyone," Ron scoffed.

"And you always think the worst," she shot back.

"What I'm wondering," Harry disturbed their bickering, "Is what situation she was in that she needed to kill eight Death Eaters. Why were they after her? Shouldn't she have been at home?"

"Harry . . . Jane's parents abandoned her when she was little. She's lived on the streets her whole life,"

There wasn't another response from Harry.

"Alright, then why were Lucius Malfoy and them chasing her?" Ron asked.

"You could always ask Malfoy," Hermione suggested quietly.

"I don't trust the prick to tell the truth," said Harry harshly.

"But do you trust Jane?" Ron questioned.

Silence.

Jane didn't stay to find out. Carefully as to not be seen, she slipped back out of the tower. She was no longer in control of her body or mind. The voice took over, leading her to find another bathroom.

* * *

He found it.

After weeks of searching through the garbage of the Room of Hidden Things, a version of the Room of Requirement, he finally found it.

The Vanishing Cabinet.

Last year Graham Montague had been shoved into the black cabinet by the Weasel's twin brothers. Draco found him in a toilet's u-bend after he eventually escaped.

_"By apparating," Montague explained in the hospital wing. The attempt had nearly taken his life._

_"What happened while you were inside?" Draco inquired, hoping to hide his curiosity._

_"It was weird. I was trapped in some kind of limbo. Couldn't do anything. Couldn't say anything. But -"_

_"But what?"_

_"Well, here's where the strange part comes in. I could hear things while inside. I heard some parts of what was going on at the school. It was faint though. Not only that, I heard sounds coming from a shop. Bells ringing, people talking . . . I swear I heard the voice of the greasy shop keeper of Borgin and Burkes,"_

At that point Draco knew the cabinet had powers unknown to others. Over the summer break, he and his mother went to the little shop on Knocturne Alley, and sure enough there was an identical cabinet. The two were linked. They formed a passage.

An undetected way for anyone to get into Hogwarts.

There was a problem, however.

The Vanishing Cabinet in Hogwarts was broken.

Draco Malfoy was not a repairman. He had no clue what to do or how to fix it, and the instructions he forced out of Borgin weren't much to go on. But that wouldn't stop him from trying his best. This was a major discovery, he couldn't just abandon it.

If Draco succeeded, he could smuggle Death Eaters into the castle to help him assassinate Jane Rodgers.

Draco reached up and dragged the red covering from the piece of furniture. The cabinet was extremely old, its black wood worn and metal rusted. He examined it from every angle; a simple Mending Charm could do no good. He expected the tool to be far more complicated than that.

His mind drifted to Jane. It sickened him that he would have to keep up a friendly charade, and it would kill him to be even remotely nice to her, mostly because Draco didn't know how to be nice. A long time ago he shut off his compassion. How else would be become a Death Eater? They were ruthless, despicable, merciless. He suppressed the good side of him in order to get power. Being nice was going to prove difficult, exceedingly difficult indeed.

"I need to do this," he muttered, "I cannot fail,"

Draco feared for his mother. She was all alone at home, with only Bellatrix to protect her, and he very much doubted her ability to do so. Bellatrix cared for no one other than the Dark Lord, not even her own sister. His mother only had him. He would rather be home with her instead of at this terrible excuse for a school. He feared what might happen if the Dark Lord visited her while she was alone.

He wasn't the only one that wanted Jane dead. When Draco got the assignment, Narcissa Malfoy was visibly pleased. She encouraged her son to take this opportunity, the opportunity to get revenge on the girl that took her husband away from her. However, she was still hesitant. He was just a boy, barely of age. Draco was pulled into all this without a clue, even if it was his own choice. He didn't know exactly what it meant to be a Death Eater, like Lucius had, and accepted. Narcissa knew what it meant it Draco failed.

Because if the young boy's efforts proved futile, he and his mother would be destroyed.

 


	13. Trust

Jane snapped the large black bangle she'd been using to cover her scars over her wrist before she left for History of Magic. She'd slept through the break and free hour that morning, and skipped breakfast. She wouldn't have been able to eat at all if she'd gone down anyway, her stomach was flipping so much, she felt like she was going to vomit.

In most times when she felt low like this, Jane knew how to keep an emotionless face and a steady voice. When Hermione asked how she was that afternoon, she didn't suspect Jane's internal emotional breakdown.

The girls strolled into Classroom 72 and sat at their usual desks surrounded by other Gryffindors. When the start of class came, the ghostly Professor Bins surveyed the students he barely remembered, at how they clumped together according to house.

"Time for a little diversity, I think," he announced in his wispy voice, "Everyone up. Out of your seats. Line up against the walls with your belongings. Quickly, now, quickly," the students did as told until the desks were empty, "You are to choose a new seat. You cannot sit next to anyone from your house, and you may not sit in the same seat you usually do. Understood? Off you go, then,"

Jane immediately went for a seat in the back, and so did Draco Malfoy.

"Get lost, Rodgers, this is my place," he demanded.

With a narrow of her eyes, Jane ignored him and plopped down in one of the few desks there were. Draco huffed and searched for a new spot. However, anywhere with an open seat had a Slytherin next to it. His only choice was to stay where he was. With a grumble he dropped his bag and slid into the desk next to her.

Jane spotted Hermione at the very front of the room sitting next to Padma Patil and gave her a little wave. The bushy haired girl noticed the boy sitting next to her and her expression turned confused. Jane only shrugged.

_Say something to her,_ Draco thought,  _Remember, you have to be -ugh- nice to her,_ "Wish you could sit with your little Gryffindor friend?"

"Better than sitting with you," Jane shot back.

"You're not exactly the ideal desk neighbor either,"

Jane kicked her feet up onto her desk and folded her arms behind her in a lazy fashion, "Feel free to move,"

"Or you can. I got here first,"

"No way, I did,"

"Liar,"

The two were silenced when Binns called their attention to him at the front of the class room. He examined his students once more, rather pleased to see the variation of house colors. Then he continued on with his lesson of, surprisingly, goblin rebellions.

Jane shouldn't have been in class today. Why she wanted to come was beyond her. She was in no position to be registering any of the lectures; her nerves were on overload, her brain barely comprehending anything, and the scars on her left wrist burned. She glanced down at the appendage, thankful she put the bracelet on. If she saw them now she might faint.

The class had fallen into what was ostensibly the usual dull stupor. Students smooshed their heads to their desks for a morning nap. The ones who weren't sleeping idly doodled on their notes or whispered to their friends. The only one who seemed to be paying any attention was Hermione.

_Typical,_ she thought. That was the studious Gryffindor for you.

"This is so  _boring,_ " Jane groaned, her head falling backward dramatically. Draco didn't answer her. Even his eyes drooped with tedium. It wasn't long before Jane passed out. The next thing she knew, Hermione was shaking her shoulder.

"Probably shouldn't have woken you up," she said, "You've got Astronomy tonight, right? Need all your rest for that,"

Jane rubbed her eyes and looked to her right. Draco was gone. She heard his voice behind her and turned. He was walking toward the exit with Pansy Parkinson on his arm. As if he knew she was looking at him, Draco turned his head to look at her with those silver grey eyes. He gave her a curt nod goodbye.

" _Now_ what's going on with you and Malfoy?" Hermione questioned, "Did you choose to sit next to him?"

"Believe me, I'm confused too," Jane stood up and collected her belongings, "No, we just got to the back and neither of us would move. That's it,"

Jane went up to the common room alone, the only class she had left being Astronomy, and that didn't start until ten o'clock clock later that night. She should have taken a nap, saved up some energy, but instead she sat at a lonely table with the pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum Hermione bought her. For the past thirty minutes she'd been chewing it and it still hadn't lost its flavor, as normal gum did. She raised an eyebrow when the bubble closed off on its own accord and floated inches from her nose. She poked at it with her finger a few times.

"They're designed to refuse popping for days,"

Harry took a seat next to her. The scars on her wrist suddenly burned more intensely.

"You okay?" he asked a bit awkwardly.

"Fine. Why?"

"You've been a bit quiet lately,"

"Of course I am, with all the shit that's been going on lately. And you're concerned because?" she hated the harsh tone in her voice.

"I'm your friend?" he guessed.

_I'm not even sure I have friends anymore,_ Jane thought.

"I'm fine, really," Jane shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "Where's Ron?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, "With Lavender. Where's Hermione?"

"Asking the Rune's teacher about her essay,"

Harry nodded and looked down at his hands, which rested on the circular table. Jane's eyes stayed glued to the bubble above her. Then Harry spoke up, "So I . . . heard about your parents,"

"I know Hermione told you,"

"And I assume you heard our conversation when Hermione told us?" he questioned. Before Jane could upright deny it, he added, "I saw you eavesdropping on us,"

Jane kept her eyes on the bubble as she spoke, "I don't really expect you to trust me. I'm not exactly a trustworthy person,"

"I'm sure you are trustworthy," he squirmed, "But now a days you can only put your trust in so many people,"

"Believe me, I get it," she agreed, "Which is why you should understand why I won't tell you what happened with Lucius Malfoy,"

"I do,"

A small pop sounded. The remains of the bubblegum bubble fell onto the table. Harry and Jane let out a short few snickers.

"Guess that was a defective bubble," Jane noted. For a moment they just sat there silently. She was relieved Harry, of all people, understood why she had secrets, why she couldn't release the details of that night. If she wished for anyone to understand why she couldn't talk about what she did, it would be Harry and Dumbledore.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Harry inquired politely.

Jane let a seconds silence pass before she lied and told him, "My parents,"

Once the words passed her lips, the images of two faceless people floated into her imagination. She never knew if Voldemort told her the truth about her parents. Maybe he wasn't lying when he told her how he came by her, and maybe he was. For now she would believe him.

_How could they abandon their child?_

She felt arms around her. Harry had come around the table to pull her into a hug, his arms on her waist as she was pressed tightly to him. It was so shocking that Jane stiffened.

She'd never been hugged before.

As if she were thawing ice, Jane let her arms fall around his neck and her chin rested on his shoulder. She allowed herself to be enveloped in the comfort. It felt so nice, so warm. The encounter was friendly. She wished he wouldn't let go. When Harry pulled away, Jane asked, "What was that for?"

"My friend just seem like she needed it," he answered.

_Friend . . ._

"But I'll have to earn your trust,"

"Correct,"

She returned his grin, although on a smaller scale, "Looks like you'll have to earn mine too,"

Harry pulled her into another hug, and as he did the bracelet slipped up her wrist. The bright red scars glared at her. Jane gulped and pushed it back to its original position.

* * *

It was strange, seeing the headmaster outside his office.

That night Jane stayed behind after class to study the stars some more. Astronomy was always her favorite subject, whether in a muggle or a wizard school. It was taught about the same way, only wizards traded out the science facts for magic. She spent perhaps three hours looking through the telescope to track her favorite constellations.

"Is Hercules out tonight?"

Jane turned from the eyepiece to see that Dumbledore had ascended the last staircase to her level. He wore robes of light blue, a silver chain tied at the bottom of his beard. His eyes twinkled knowingly as he waited for her answer.

"Nope," Jane turned back to the telescope, "Currently on the other side of the world,"

"Too bad," Dumbledore stepped further into the tower, observing the sky through his half-moon glasses. After a while Jane looked up at him with keenness. She hardly ever saw him outside their meetings, and the occasional meal time.

"Is there anything you wanted to talk about with me, Professor?"

"I sense you are troubled," he said with disposition. When she didn't respond, he tried again, "You do not seem to be yourself of late,"

"What makes you say that?" she inquired.

Dumbledore motioned for her to come to the railing with him, and with slight hesitance she followed. Her hands resting on the black bar, Jane stared up into the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight, making it the perfect night for stargazing. A layer of frost coated the scenery, signaling winter's entrance.

As the headmaster looked into the sky, he spoke softly to her, "For one, you look to be quieter than usual. You don't speak to many people. Whenever I have seen you, you are conversing with other students. Secondly, you've been absent from class more often than two classes a week. Your teachers have come to me complaining of your lack of attendance and completed assignments. Thirdly, you seem to be lost, and very emotional. Even though you try to hide it, it is obvious to an old timer such as myself. And fourthly, I do not believe you had scars on your wrist the last time I saw you,"

Jane looked down at her wrist in horror. She had forgotten her bangle. Slapping her hand over her scars, Jane looked away, "What, so you want me to pour out all my problems to you?"

"If you feel the need to," he simply put, "You can't keep things like this bottled up. It will hurt you immensely," Dumbledore's eyes flickered down to the hand covering her wrist, "When did you begin cutting?"

Jane gulped audibly, biting her bottom lip, but she only shrugged in response.

"As long as you don't keep doing it, I'm sure they will go away," he assured her, "Do you have any questions for me?"

_A million,_ Jane thought. But she started with the one that was most on her mind, "Is it safe here?"

She'd heard that Hogwarts was the safest place on Earth from people like Voldemort. She was assured by several students, and even Dumbledore himself. And yet she couldn't help but wonder it there was a flaw in their protection. Like at any moment something bad could happen.

"It is," Dumbledore responded, "We have put many defenses around the school. Spells enchantments, body guards . . . we have even closed off all the secret passages. Do you not feel safe here?"

Jane faltered before shaking her head, "Not really.  _He_ can get in anywhere . . . and no offense, but it doesn't help when you have a Death Eater for a teacher,"

"I can assure you that Professor Snape is on our side. There is no need to fear him. Nevertheless, you are safe here, Jane. Voldemort will not try and get to you while you are here," the headmaster stated with decisiveness in his tone. Jane dropped that subject.

"Is there anything else you wish to ask?"

At first there was nothing she had left to question. Not without insulting the headmaster or letting something slip of her past. And then she remembered the Sorting Hat, how it had let her into Gryffindor.

_Why?_ she thought.

It's not that it bothered her to be in Gryffindor. Jane thought the houses were stupid, really. She wouldn't have cared which house she ended up in. However, the traits of each house, compared with her personality and past, were troublesome nonetheless.

"Is it too late to change houses?" she asked.

Dumbledore must have heard a question like this previously, because he showed no shock. His expression was emotionless and wise as ever, "Do you think you're in the wrong house?"

"I don't belong in Gryffindor," Jane stated, "I'm not brave, courageous, or daring. I -"

The headmaster interrupted her kindly, "On the contrary, you, Jane, are a very brave person,"

She glanced at him disbelievingly, waiting for him to clarify his sentence.

"You agreed to come with me, to help me in destroying Voldemort. If that isn't bravery, I don't know what is,"

"But . . . I'm  _his_ daughter. I'm practically like him. He's the Slytherin heir, so shouldn't I be in Slytherin as well?"

"Students do not get sorted by their parentage or guardianship. They are sorted by what's inside them. If the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, it was for good reason,"

Jane took this into consideration, although she couldn't believe him right away. Jane had cursed people. She had killed people. She was Dark. Determined and intelligent. Weren't most of the qualities that a student in Slytherin would have?

She glanced at the scars again.

"You cannot keep these emotions bottled inside you," Dumbledore repeated, "It will ruin you. You could speak about them with me, or perhaps you could find a companion to tell these problems to,"

"I can't," she insisted, "I can't tell anyone anything. I can barely tell you," Jane crossed her arms over her chest and shivered at a sudden wind, "Everyone thinks I'm a murderer. They're all afraid of me,"

"I'm sure your friends would accept you as you are,"

"The only reason they accept me is  _because_ they don't know who I am. If I told Hermione exactly who I am, she would be even more scared of me than she already is. If I told Harry, he might even try and kill me," she shuddered at the thought. They were the only friends she had. Despite the odds, they had grown on her, and it would break her heart if she lost them for any reason.

"Harry is more understanding than you might think,"

Yeah, she figured that out when they had their little conversation earlier that day. But this was Voldemort they were talking about. This was the fact that she was as good as his flesh and blood.

"I think I'll leave you to study the stars some more," Dumbledore bowed his head goodnight to her and made his way to the staircase. She heard his footsteps descend, and she sighed.

Dumbledore . . . he gave the impression to be what everyone claimed he was; kind, just, trustworthy. When he spoke to her, he acted sincerely apprehensive. He wasn't just trying to get information out of her. He cared about her.

_When was the last time someone cared about me?_

"Never," she whispered.

 


	14. Forget Everything You Saw

Draco realized that being nice to Jane was going to be intolerable. Whenever he tried to talk with her without sneering, his words came out awkwardly, he stuttered, he teased her, or he ended up departing before he could scream.

This was one of those times.

"Attention hogging Gryffindor," he scorned, shooting her a venomous glower.

"Ambitious, traitorous Slytherin," Jane snapped.

"Why thank you," he flashed her his usual teasing smirk, "If anyone is a traitor here, it's you, Blood Traitor Assassin,"

That had now become Jane's official nickname among the Slytherins. The girl in question gritted her teeth, feeling her temper rise uncontrollably, "How can you call me that when you don't know my blood status?"

"Enlighten me then. What exactly is your blood?"

Jane faltered. Draco's keen eyes noticed her hesitation, and his even keener mind came to the correct conclusion, "You don't know?" he drawled in recognition, "You don't know your own blood, Rodgers? What, mummy and daddy never told you?" and when she failed to answer him again, a wicked smirk curled on his lips, "You don't  _have_ a mummy and daddy, do you?"

"Shut up!" Jane hissed through her teeth.

"You and Potter can start a club," Draco sniggered obnoxiously, "Did they die just like his did? Did someone murder then when you were just a sniveling brat?"

"No, you ass, they left me at an orphanage!" she regretted the words the instant they left her mouth. It only made things worse for her. A malicious glint formed in the boy's eyes.

"Well, of course they shunned you. Who on earth would want a nasty little thing like you?"

Jane went for her wand, and before she could hex him, Hermione shouted, _"Expelliarmus!"_ Jane turned, her long hair flying around her face, to see her friend catch her wand.

"What the hell, Hermione?!" she screamed. Draco and his friends cackled behind her. Without a word Hermione dragged her from the scene, with Jane shouting curses all the while, "Hermione, give me my fucking wand back!"

"Not until you calm down," Hermione disagreed, "As much as I'd like to see you hurt Malfoy, you don't need to get in any more trouble," the two girls walked into a small, private outdoor area. Fumbling with her skirt, Jane found the tiny hidden pocket she'd made in the hem and retrieved her cigarette pack. It was empty.

"God damn it," she crushed the pack with her fist, "There goes my last remedy. Not like I can use my MP3 player here,"

"Why do you smoke in the first place?" Hermione wrinkled her nose, "It's so bad for you,"

"Not a good idea to be criticizing me right now," Jane warned with a hostile gleam in her eyes, "This is just fabulous. Cigarettes are out, music is out -"

"You looked content playing the piano at the music shop," Hermione recollected.

"But I can't go to Hogsmeade,"

A smile played on Hermione's lips as a thought came to her, "I know where we can find one," she motioned a reluctant Jane to follow her. They traveled through the castle up to the seventh floor, a part of the castle that Jane had never been in before.

"Where are you taking me?" she groaned. They stopped abruptly in a hallway off of the Hall of Hexes. On one side was a tapestry labeled  _Barnabas the Barmy_ _,_ and on the other was a dead spun her away from the tapestry to face the opposite wall, "Hermione -"

"I want you to pace across this patch of wall and think really hard about what you need," she instructed. Jane eyed her probingly, but she only nudged her onward. With an aggravated sigh, the blonde headed girl leisurely paced parallel to the stone wall, focusing on what she needed at that very moment.

_I need a piano._

One lap. She felt silly doing this.

_I need a piano._

Two laps. What exactly was this supposed to accomplish?

_I need a piano._

Three laps. Jane glanced at the wall and stopped in her tracks. A large, wooden double door appeared. She looked back at Hermione, who eagerly egged her on, and then reached out to open it. The room beyond was vast and elegant as a cathedral, with high ceilings and tall glass windows. The lighting cast gentle shadows on the outskirts of the place. The only thing inside this room was a grand piano made from black wood. It was in spectacular condition, maybe a bit dusty. Jane went to the instrument and ran her hands over the top while Hermione closed the doors behind them. This was a piano like the ones that were played at beautiful symphonies.

"What is this place?" she queried, stormy grey eyes roaming around the room in wonder.

"The Room of Requirement," Hermione answered, coming to stand beside her, "It's a hidden room inside the castle, only appearing to those in dire need of it. Whatever you require will magically appear,"

"Hence the piano,"

On the music rack were stacks of ancient looking scores. Jane and Hermione carefully flipped through them until she found a piece she recognized.

_"Sparrow,"_ she read the title, remembering when she played it on stage at a muggle high school. She set the pile of the music gently on the floor while she rested on the bench, scooting over so her Gryffindor friend could sit next to her. Jane let her fingers trail to the ivory keys, and pressed the middle C with the tip of her finger.

Perfectly in tune. A bit dim, but perfect.

She began to play, hands caressing the high notes. The melody rose to the ceiling and echoed off the walls in just the right places. Her frustration and anger strung out like a strand of yard being pulled from the ball of anger it was attached to, lessening the more violently she pressed. The sting of her fingers stretching to reach the keys was satisfying. Jane let out a sigh and closed her eyes. She no longer needed to see the music.

The musician struck the keys with more velocity as the tempo fluctuated. Although being a simple piece, it rapidly crescendos from barely audible to loud and obnoxious. Hermione let herself meld into the melody, unable to recall when she last heard music truly this mesmerizing. The song ended with a final low thud, the sound vibrating before dying out. She left a few seconds silence pass before whispering, "That was beautiful,"

"Thank you," Jane's shoulders slumped in relaxation, her temper finally retreating.

"Whenever you need to blow off some steam, you can come here," Hermione informed, "You just need to walk past the wall three times and concentrate on what you need,"

Jane's fingers played over three keys in a soft pattern as she thought. Hermione was special. She was tremendously bright, and caring, and loyal. She was indeed a great person. Hermione didn't deserve to be called a mudblood, to be looked down upon. She was just as good as any pureblood.

"You're a great friend, you know?" Jane said wholeheartedly, "Don't let anyone tell you differently,"

Hermione smiled widely, "Thanks," then she bumped Jane's side, "Would you teach me how to play that song?"

"Absolutely,"

* * *

Jane did not stop cutting. By the next time she had detention – which had been moved from Monday to Saturday because Snape had something better to do – she had five more cuts on her right wrist and two on her left thigh.

Perhaps by the end of the night she would have a few more, because she had to serve her detention with Draco. Things had gotten complicated since he'd saved her. She could describe their relationship as a roller coaster she wanted to get off of, but wasn't allowed. One minute he was somewhat kind to her – his kind being barely talking to her and only teasing her a little – and the next she onslaught with insults and glares. She couldn't figure him out. So Jane was very hesitant when she learned she would be doing her time with the unstable boy.

Snape wasn't there when Draco arrived. He left without describing where he was going or how long he'd be gone. The tall Slytherin boy leaned his body against the doorframe, eyes sweeping lazily around the room and then stopping on her. Draco sauntered over to her just as Jane turned. When her eyes met his, she saw a demonic glint and an amused smirk on his lips.

"You know, when I said ' _Accio hottie_ ,' I didn't expect it to work,"

And then he said things like that. This boy was driving her crazy! He hit on her, he chewed her out, he ignored her . . . did he have some kind of personality disorder?

"Do you have some kind of personality disorder?" she retorted, training her eyes back to the shelves.

"Nope. One fantastic personality, one-hundred percent sane," he vowed "Where's Snape?"

"Gone,"

"Thanks for that, Captain Obvious,"

Jane rolled her eyes and pointed the tip of her quill at the jars and bags on the shelves, "We have to re-label the ingredients from E to H,"

"Or I could leave," he backed up a couple steps, "I've got better things to do than detention,"

Jane didn't bother to glare at him, "If you do, I'll be sure to tell Snape you never showed up. You'll probably get double detention, which is more time away from whatever important thing you have to do,"

Draco glanced between Jane and the exit, weighing his options. In the end he huffed and unwillingly agreed to help. Truthfully, Jane liked having him there. It would be a lot easier being around Snape with his presence, even if she despised him.

After thirty minutes of work, she heard Draco muttering under his breath while re-shelving bottles of Eye of Newt. The word she picked up the most was "Gryffindors."

"What's the deal with all the houses?" she questioned off hand, "Why is everyone so prejudice against each other?"

"That's the way it's been since this bloody school opened," Draco scoffed.

"And what is with the whole  _bloody_  thing?" her voice raised an octave in annoyance, almost dropping the bottle of Fluoride she held, "I don't see anything bloody around here,"

He turned to look at her with the most dumbfounded of expressions, "And here I thought you might actually be  _intelligent_ , but you lack just as much brains as your loser friends. Bloody is British slang,"

"Well excuse me for being American,"

He went back to his section of the stock, muttering underneath his breath, "Worthless, puny Blood Traitor Assassin,"

"I'm not a blood traitor," Jane's jaw tightened.

"Do I need to make Pansy explain to you what a blood traitor is again? You  _are_  a blood traitor. You spend your time with mudbloods and blood traitors. For all we know, you could be a mudblood yourself,"

_I know I'm not a mudblood,_ Jane thought,  _Voldemort wouldn't have taken me if I was muggle born._

"What is the point of using that name?" she questioned with fierceness, "Blood doesn't matter,"

"Of course it matters," she heard him say, "Pure bloods are better, superior, more magical. Mudbloods are filthy and impure, scandals to the name of wizard. My  _father_ once said that," he shot. Jane faced him to see his irises drilling into her with the upmost belief in his words, "They don't belong in our world,"

"Shut up!" Jane shouted, her fingers itching for her wand. Draco ignored her and took a step forward, "Shut up, Draco! They do belong in our world!"

He paused for a second, having hardly ever heard his first name coming out of someone else's mouth. But he continued forward, looking down on her, his broad shoulders casting the girl into shadows, "Even half-bloods are inferior. They're weak, and anyone who doesn't consider mudbloods to be unnatural are blood traitors, just as disgusting as the people they support,"

" _It doesn't matter_ ," Jane asserted, "Blood does not matter. It's all bias, just like judging someone by their skin or ethnicity. We're all  _people!_  We all have the same damn blood in us!"

" _Exactly_  what a blood traitor would say,"

In an attempt to calm herself, she turned back towards the shelf, and on a whim she muttered, "At least I wasn't turned into a rodent,"

Jane had no idea how or why the words came out of his mouth, and she really didn't care. She could have laughed when she saw the color drain from his now emotionless face. A short while ago, when Jane and Hermione were alone in the common room, Hermione told her of all the hilarious things that happened in the previous years, including when the old DADA professor Mad Eye Moody turned Draco into a ferret for almost cursing Harry behind his back, and then sticking him down Crabbe's pants. Jane was laughing so hard, her stomach was sore for days, and every time she saw him she let out a little snicker.

"What did you just say?" a low, dangerous growl emitted from his throat.

"Oh yeah, I heard all about Moody's mini Transfiguration lesson. To be honest, I would have pictured you as an ugly toad, or maybe a slimy serpent, but a stinky ferret works just as well,"

"Shut it, Rodgers!" the look he gave her was one of the fiercest she'd ever seen. His face contorted in rage and had a red tint to it.

"What was it like, being down Crabbe's pants?"

He stepped closer to her, his hands gripping her upper arms too tight for comfort. Draco gave her a rough shake, making her head fling back, "I said  _shut up! Shut up!"_

"What's the matter? Did I hit a nerve? Can't come up with better insults? I'm not like the other teenagers at this school, Draco! I know how to play this game too, and you don't have your body guards to go running to because you're too damn weak -!"

_SMACK!_

In the stunned silence that followed, Jane touched her stinging cheek. Draco stared at her with satisfaction of finally getting her to close her mouth. Her temper was too high for her to see reason. Through narrowed eyes she looked at him with loathing, and with lightning fast reflexes, she pulled her hand from her robes.

Draco, however, was quicker. He used the silent disarming spell, and her wand hurled out of her hand, into the air, and was caught by Draco. He held it above her as the girl lunged at him, flailing her arms as she clawed at his skin and clothes to get to what was hers.

"Give it back!" she shrieked, "Give it back!"

Draco cackled pitilessly, a dominant smirk coiled on his lips, "Not so tough without your wand, huh Rodgers?"

Jane pounded on his chest and shoulders brutally, "I hate you! I hate you!"

"The feeling is mutual, I can assure you," he snapped back.

Jane grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down, which made her back arch and her leg twist. She gasped, feeling herself falling swiftly backwards, so tangled up in Draco that he fell with her. They toppled to the ground with full force, her head thrown against the wood planked floor, as well as being cracked against Draco's forehead. Her wand flung out of his hand, rolling away from them with a low clacking.

"Get off -!" she began. The the words stuck in her throat as they found how close they were. His pale forehead pressed against her throbbing one, and his pointed nose slid against hers. She could feel his warm breath tickling her cheeks. If Draco moved forward in the slightest, he would be kissing her, and the scent coming off him . . . she recognized it from the Amortentia potion. Oh God, that was him?! That's where that aroma came from?! It was so intoxicating that she lost her mind for a second.

Draco looked down on her, staring into her dark irises. While his eyes were a silver grey, bright and metallic, Jane's eyes were stormy grey, holding all the passion and drama of a deep thunderstorm, and giving off a haunted gleam. The long strands of her hair resided in a pool underneath her head, and her lips looked sensuous, parted and naturally a strawberry color. She looked so tantalizing underneath him that he almost forgot who she was. For just a moment she was just another girl he'd fancied.

Merlin, what was wrong with him?

He snapped back to reality and hurriedly pushed himself off her with a disgusted grunt. Jane sat up with a dazed expression, raising a hand to press it against her forehead. When she felt she was able to stand without her head spinning, she retrieved her wand. The rest of their detention passed in stony silence.

* * *

Draco Malfoy skipped Defense Against the Dark Arts to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. He was slowly deteriorating day after day, week after week. Dark circles formed under his eyes, darker with each time he visited the Room of Hidden Things. His pale skin now had a grey tint to it. The Slytherin Prince was becoming anti-social; he quit the Quidditch Team, neglected his Prefect duties, and distanced himself from his friends. The only person he really talked to was Pansy, only because she wouldn't leave him the hell alone. He lost sleep, and could swear his sanity was diminishing as well.

He didn't want this. Not to any further extent. When he first heard of the Dark Lord's power, he wanted it more than anything. Draco had his own supremacy at school when he was younger, and he relished in it. When he got his Dark Mark, he was consumed in the attention he was given. He talked the talk; he might as well walk the walk. But now that Draco knew exactly what it meant to be a Death Eater, he wasn't sure. He was in over his head.

Draco stopped before the wall where the Room of Requirement door was hidden, a green apple held tightly in his hand. He took a deep breath and walked back and forth in front of the wall.

_I need the Vanishing Cabinet. I need the Vanishing Cabinet. I need the Vanishing Cabinet._

The next time he looked at the wall, it was occupied by the narrow double doors. Draco pushed the doors open and strolled into a certain section without disinclination, passing many large stacks of odd objects. He came at a standstill in a clear area, where before him was the object of his interest concealed in a red covering. Gripping the edge of the sheet, Draco dragged it to the floor, giving a slight cough as dust flew.

* * *

Jane skipped Defense Against the Dark Arts simply because she didn't want to go. For a while she just roamed the castle, but soon got bored of that. She wasn't about to go back into the Forbidden Forest, and she couldn't go out to the Black Lake on a weekday. The library was automatically out, and so was the common room.

_How about that one place Hermione showed you?_ the voice asked,  _What was it called again?_

"Room of Requirement," Jane answered. She found herself in the Hall of Hexes and walked to the perpendicular hallway, where she stood opposite of the tapestry. Following Hermione's instructions, Jane passed the wall three times, still feeling stupid for doing so, but knowing it had a purpose.

_I need a piano. I need a piano. I need a piano._

But when she walked into the Room of Requirement, it was not like the one she was in the first time. The immensity of it could not be fully appreciated because of the accumulation of rubbish.

"I guess if anyone needs to hide something, they could so it here,"

Jane flitted around the room full of treasures, trying to examine as much as she was allowed. It was basically a huge junk pile that hid a multitude of secrets. The main thing she saw were books, stacks and stacks of books. In one corner was a jumble of broken furniture, and in another some heavy broomsticks.

She walked around a coat hanger holding dusty torn cloaks and into another section of the place, where she noticed movement. She wasn't alone here, and when she crawled closer, she realized it was Draco. Ducking behind a broken dresser, Jane watched as he examined the thing in front of him; a tall, worn, triangular black cupboard. In his hand was an unblemished green apple. He glimpsed over his shoulder several times, eyes narrowed with paranoia. Then he opened the cabinet door with a small click and placed the fruit on the bottom. Pulling his wand from his pocket, Draco aimed it at the hinge of the closed door. Jane raised herself from the floor in order to get a clearer look. Draco, his eyes closed, swaying on the heels of his shoes, whispered something too low for her to hear, yet made the hair on her arms stand.

There was a small whooshing sound that came from the cabinet, and he opened it. The apple was gone.

"So is this what you do when you're supposed to be in class?" Jane inquired, wincing as even her lowest tone was still too loud, "Make fruit disappear?"

Draco whipped around and shot a nonverbal spell at her, which she dodged. He had his wand pointed between her eyes when she rose up. His face was etched in stone, glaring menacingly at her. Draco looked like a kid caught doing something bad, and was now trying to bully the witness into not telling.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he sneered, voice low and malicious.

Jane found an underlying surprise when she felt scared. How could she be scared of him, of all people? It might have been because of out of his expressions, this one was the most ferocious, "Chill, Draco. What's your deal?"

"How did you find this place?" the volume of his voice increased. If she had found the version of the Room of Requirement the losers of Dumbledore's Army had, it wouldn't have been such a big problem. But this was the Room of Hidden Thing. As far as Draco knew, he was the only student that knew about it. Jane had just witnessed part of his plot to murder her.

_She doesn't know what you're doing,_ a calm thought arose in his head. He didn't care.

"Get out!" he demanded, making her back up as he advanced, "Get out!"

"Why should I?" she asked, eyebrows knitting together in a probing frown. Draco gripped her upper arm so hard his knuckles turned pure white. She winced, positive there would be bruises there later, "Ouch! Stop, you're hurting me!"

"Good!" he dragged her through the maze of junk straight to the exit, and pushed her out with such vigor that she landed on her ass. If he weren't so furious, Draco would have laughed.

* * *

Jane stumbled to her feet as the doors closed with a slam, rubbing her arm and her sore butt. What the hell was that about? What was he doing?

What if she went and told Potter and the Golden Trio? He didn't need Scarhead following him everywhere. He already had Pansy stalking him. What if she got suspicious? What if she stared sneaking around him? What if -?

_What if the sky falls, and you lose all your hair?_ the calmer side of him wondered,  _She doesn't know anything. You're fine, everything's okay. She doesn't know what she saw._

Flexing his fingers from gripping Jane's arm so taut, he went back to the Vanishing Cabinet. It was still empty, no sign of the fruit he put in previously. Draco inhaled deeply as he pointed the tip of his wand at the contraption.

_"Harmonia Nectere Passus,"_ he breathed, and then reiterated the password more forcefully _"Harmonia Nectere Passus,"_

A quiet whoosh, and he unlatched the door. There sat the apple. Draco picked it up and turned it in his hand. His perfectly shaped eyebrow arched in muddle.

There was a bite taken out of it.

* * *

Surprisingly Jane and Draco both made it to Potions later that afternoon, and, dreadfully, they were paired together for brewing.

"Professor Sprout needs some Herbicide to kill . . . I can't remember," Professor Slughorn scratched his balding head in thought, "All I know is she needs it,"

Once he announced the pairings, Jane glanced sideways to Draco. He was slumped so far down in his seat she could only see his chest and up when she stood to go to him after they were released. He looked up at her with an emotionless expression before sighing. They conducted their preparation in silence, until Jane went to retrieve her copy of  _Advanced Potion Making_ and found it wasn't there.

"Do you have your book?" she asked. Draco shook his head, looked around, and locked his eyes on Blaise.

"Blaise, give me your text book," he ordered. Blaise Zabini's eyes flashed between him and Jane, who he glared at. He held his book close to his chest.

"I don't want the Blood Traitor Assassin touching it," he claimed.

"Fuck you," Jane retorted.

"She won't," Draco held his hand out for the item, "Just hand it over,"

Reluctantly he did so. Draco flipped through the pages to find the correct ingredients, "Flobberworm Mucus, Horklump Juice, and Spines of Lionfish,"

Jane retrieved the ingredients while Draco copied the directions onto a piece of parchment so Blaise could get his book back. Every once in a while she looked up at him, the former events occupying her mind. He wouldn't look at her, barely talked to her unless it was to tell her she was doing something wrong. As she stirred the contents in the cauldron, she finally took the chance.

"So what were you doing?" her voice was so low, only he could hear her.

"Nothing," he replied in the same octave.

"It didn't look like nothing,"

He didn't respond, instead turning up the heat and crushing the lionfish spines into a rough powder. Jane swallowed and tried again, "Is that why you've been missing so many classes?"

"Stalker much?" he muttered.

"No, just observant," a few seconds later, "Is it illegal?"

"If it was, I wouldn't likely be telling you, would I?" he slammed the bottle of Horklump juice on the table.

"Was it -?"

"Rodgers," he hissed. His eyes bore into hers with such intensity that it completely shut her up. Draco leaned in towards her, his face just a few inches from hers in order to make his point, "It's none of your business. Forget everything you saw, and never go into that room again if you know what's good for you,"

Jane wasn't too good at following orders, whether they were good for her or not.

 


	15. Curiosity Kills

He couldn't stop thinking of her. Jane was slowly beginning to revert back to the mysterious girl he first saw a few months back, the girl he'd do anything to have, and he hated it. He hated her. Jane was tainted. Soiled. A blood traitor. A Gryffindor. A homicidal bitch.

And he didn't believe it.

Merlin, his father must be rolling in his grave by now.

She was  _sorry_ for killing Draco's father. She was  _sorry_ for almost killing him. Here he thought Jane was a soulless, mindless thing with a wicked temper. Could he have been wrong?

_No,_ he thought,  _I'm not wrong. I can't be wrong._

He couldn't lose his nerve. He couldn't change his mind. There was no going back.

* * *

There was a banquet on the last night of October. Excitement buzzed through the Gryffindor Tower at the thought of sugar and sweets galore. Jane was only excited because everyone would be in the Great Hall, leaving her to roam the floors alone.

Especially the seventh floor.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Hermione asked, "The Halloween feast is the best one of the year,"

"Maybe I'll come down later, but not right now,"

She waited until most of the students had left for dinner before she went to the Room of Requirement, her wand already in her hand just in case. And for good reason, because Jane had only taken five steps inside before she had a wand pointed to the side of her head.

"I thought I told you to never come here again," he hissed in her ear.

"You should know by now that I do whatever I want," Jane retorted, voice quivering faintly as the tip of his weapon glowed. She tightened her grip on her own wand.

"Why do you keep coming here?"

"I'm curious,"

After a moment or two of silence, much to her astonishment, he lowered his wand. Jane turned to face Draco, surveying the bags under his eyes and his gaunt face. Whatever he was doing here, it was draining him.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know," Draco countered, turning away from her. Jane trailed him to the place she found him previously. The only thing he did to stop her was a lethal glare, which she ignored. He stopped in front of the black cabinet of mysteries while Jane stayed a ways back, not too sure of her place in this situation.

"What is that thing?" she asked warily. Draco disregarded her words, his full attention on his project. Jane's eyes traveled over the boy once more, feeling pity grow with every inch she took in. Draco was perfect when she first met him, sexy even. Now he looked like a hollow shell of his former self. Besides the bags and pale features, his hair was tangled and disheveled, and if even possible, he looked  _thinner._ Was that possible for someone as lean as he was?

"When was the last time you ate?"

He only shrugged. Jane made a quick decision and turned on her heel to leave.

"Where are you going?"

She barely heard the question, and turned back to make sure she wasn't imagining it. Draco glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his head barely angled toward the blonde girl.

"I'll be right back," she responded uneedingly.

The Great Hall was decorated like she'd never imagined. Jack O Lanterns floated among the enchanted candles above, bats fluttered around the room, and ghosts popped out of walls and tables to frighten the students. Jane spotted Hermione by herself at the very end of the Gryffindor table, closest to the teacher's table, and hurried along to her.

"Jane? Decided to come down?" she asked, covering her full mouth with her hand.

"Yes, but I'm not staying," Jane replied. At Hermione's questioning look, she added, "I've got–um–lots of homework, and I can't afford to take a break,"

She grabbed a plate, piling it high with any food she could reach, and a goblet of Pumpkin Juice, and returned to the Room of Requirement, very careful not to spill anything. Draco still stood in front of the contraption when she came back, and didn't concede the return of her presence. Dusting off a nearby end table, she set down the golden plate and goblet, swiping a pastry from the top before stepping away.

Jane sank to the floor in front of a stack of books with her legs folded under her while she chewed the roll. Draco gave the plate the briefest of regards before looking at her out of the corner of his eye suspiciously.

"I didn't poison anything," Jane swore, taking a second larger bite of her pastry to prove her point. He still didn't look like he believed her.

To say it was silent after that would have been incorrect. The room had all kinds of sounds: the creaking of wooden beams, something toppling over every now and again, the squeaking of rodents, the skipping of a record player somewhere far off. Several times Jane got up to wander around, to see what else she could find, and Draco would still be upright, tinkering with the cabinet. He didn't touch the food she brought him, but on her fourth time around she saw him take up the glass of Pumpkin Juice, though he only looked at its contents before setting it back down.

"I won't tell anyone what you're doing," Jane said. Draco cast a skeptical stare. When she started to feel her eyelids droop, Jane went to leave. Again, his voice brought her back.

"It's a Vanishing Cabinet," he informed, "I'll assume you're not dimwitted enough to make a correct conclusion."

Her temper flickered, "What are you doing with it?"

"Mending it," Draco answered curtly.

"Why?"

She left him alone when he chose not to answer her.

* * *

Herbology was not one of Jane's favorite classes. It's not that she didn't want to get her hands dirty; she couldn't have cared less about getting soil underneath her fingernails. She just wasn't fond of the plants.

She skipped breakfast and arrived at the green houses a few minutes before Harry, Ron, and Hermione did. The three were whispering about something and dropped it when they came in. Jane only cast them a suspicious glance but didn't question them.

As they worked on their Snargaluff stumps, they idly chatted through their gum shields about their progress in classes, Quidditch – to Hermione's disdain – and Slughorn's parties – to Ron's disdain. Professor Slughorn had a club of his brightest and most interesting students. Harry and Hermione were both in it, and Hermione had gone to the recent party without him. Ron was left exasperated as she described how they met Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team. Jane wasn't listening, she was too busy battling the damn stump that wrapped its vines around her torso, trapping her.

"Yo!" she grunted, trying to free herself, "I could use some help here!"

Ron beat back a couple vines with gardening sheers to get to Jane while Hermione sank her arm into a hole in all the tentacle-like branches, which closed around her. When Jane was free, she and the boys pried the hole open so Hermione could snatch her arm back. In her hand she held a pulsating green pod, the whole reason they were dealing with the plant in the first place.

"Good work, you four," Professor Sprout congratulated them as the prickly vines shot back to the lump of wood they came from. Hermione's shirt was torn, and her arm bleeding. Jane had scratches across her arms and abdomen. The boys had scrapes on their faces, and all of them had thorns and leaves tangled in their hair.

Jane really hated plants.

They resumed their exchange like nothing happened. While Jane and Ron strained to burst the pod into a bowl, Hermione informed Harry of an upcoming Christmas party for Slug Club members.

"Christmas isn't for another month or two," Jane interrupted, "Isn't it a little soon to be talking about that?"

The pod flew from Ron's fingers and rebounded all over the greenhouse. Harry left to retrieve it, and Jane got the privilege to hear Hermione and Ron argue over the party.

"You go and enjoy your party, then," Ron sneered, "Try and hook up with McLaggen. Maybe Slughorn will make you King and Queen -"

"We're allowed to bring guests, and I almost thought of bringing you, but then I figured your _girlfriend_ wouldn't like that," said Hermione. Halfway through her explanation, Harry returned with the object and attempted to pry it open. From the look on his face, he'd wished that he hadn't come back. Jane shot him the same glance, which turned into a deer-in-headlights expression when she heard her name come from Hermione's mouth, "Jane, how would you like to come with me to the Christmas party?"

Jane's hands flew up in defense, "Don't put me in the middle of this. If it's going to cause problems, I'm not going,"

"It won't cause any problems," Hermione claimed, "Will it, Ronald?" she aimed a glare at him.

"Either way, I still don't want to go," she decided, "Ron, I don't know why you're making a big deal about the Slug Club. It sounds dumb to me,"

The sound of a crash stopped the argument. Harry missed the bowl and shattered it, which he hastily repaired it with a spell. Hermione bit her lip and looked away from the boys as she searched for a way to get the contents of the pod into the bowl. Jane took the dish and attempted to strangle the pulsating thing. It shot out of her hands and struck her so hard in the nose that she stumbled and fell backward. If that wasn't enough, it bounced down onto her stomach and away. Jane held her stomach in pain and sat up carefully, feeling blood dribble from her nose.

"God damn it!" she shouted angrily.

"Five points from Gryffindor for foul language," Professor Sprout called out in disapproval. Ron cast a Silencing Charm before Jane could scream anything worse. As the blood wouldn't stop flowing, she was dismissed from class and sent to the Hospital Wing alone. She stomped through the corridor holding her nostrils closed.

"I swear, the next person that talks to me will be hexed," she muttered, her threat sounding silly with her nose plugged.

Jane rounded a corner and came face to face with Draco. A gloating smirk curled on his lips at the sight of blood staining her skin and top, "Well, hello there, Blood Traitor Assassin," he greeted almost cheerfully, "What happened? Someone beat you up for killing their pet?"

"Don't mess with me right now, Draco," Jane roughly pushed her way past him.

"I guess now we can see just how filthy a blood traitor's blood is," he snickered.

With a set jaw, she swerved back and let go of her nose, letting the blood trickle over her lips, "You see this?! My blood is the exact same color as yours! I'm the same as you!"

"No you're not," Draco narrowed his eyes in disgust, "I'm better than you,"

_Of course he's better than you,_ the voice said calmly,  _Anyone is better than you._

Jane only mumbled _,_ "I hate you," before going in search of the Hospital Wing. Draco, however, had other plans as he caught her wrist.

"If you hate me, then why'd you bring me food? Why do you keep coming to see me?"

It was true that a few times Jane had gone to the Room of Requirement. Most of the time it was to find a piano, which hadn't happened since the first time. The other visits had been to see what he was up to. She never talked him, only stayed a few minutes and then left.

"I don't come to see you, I come to see what you're up to," she admitted, unwilling to feed his ego, "And I brought you food because you look thin. Not that you ate any of it,"

"What, so you care about me, do you?"

"Didn't you hear what I said two seconds ago?  _I hate you,_ " she tried to put venom in her voice, but it backfired due to her pinching her nose.

"If anyone should have a reason to hate, it should be me. After all, you did murder my father,"

_You forgave me for that,_ Jane thought,  _Why won't you let me forget it?_

Jane took her wrist back and left the boy standing alone. Needless to say, she did not return to the Room of Requirement for a while.

* * *

Wasn't Occlumency supposed to prevent him from feeling emotions?

The minute Bellatrix heard of Draco's mission, she insisted she teach her nephew Occlumency. Seeing as he turned off any bit of compassion he had in order to become the bullying Slytherin Prince, it was easier for him to close his mind and detach from his feelings.

So why did he feel . . . lonely?

Jane hadn't been to see him in a while. Draco had gotten so used to her brief appearances that now he wondered where she was when she wasn't with him. That irked him, because he shouldn't have even been thinking about her like that. So what if she didn't come? That was fine with him. Now he could work in peace.

On a clear night in November Draco went to the Astronomy Tower, needing a change of scenery. He was thankful for the month's chill, for it cooled his hot skin. He reached the top step, and found he would not be alone. Jane Rodgers stood at the railing, looking up to the sky.

_Push her off,_ he thought,  _Push her off the tower._

"Looks like I get to walk in on you this time," said Draco, a hint of amusement in his voice.

She took her time turning to face him, glancing over apprehensively. Their reactions to each other were always different. How this encounter would turn out, she wondered. "What are you doing here?" she asked softly, "Shouldn't you be working on that Vanishing Cabinet of yours?"

"Needed a break," he answered nonchalantly, "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Jane didn't answer him. Draco gradually treaded up to the railing and stood beside her, observing the night sky. There wasn't a single cloud to block the full moon and brilliant stars. He'd never seen so many out all at once. Draco looked back to Jane. With the moonlight cast on her, her skin looked almost as pale as his. So did her hair, only hers had a reddish tint to it. Her eyes scanned the heavens rapidly, and she held her left hand over her right wrist.

"What are you looking for?" asked Draco.

Jane tilted her chin up to the sky, "Constellations. There are so many out tonight,"

Very briefly Draco remembered him and his mother sitting on one of the balconies of the Manor when he was younger. They would stare at the stars and his mother would point out all sorts of formations and tell him their stories.

"Any I might recognize?"

"I don't know what you'd recognize," a half smile tugged at the corner of her lips, "But I know one you might like," she pushed away from the black metal railing and approached the giant telescope. From the way she handled it, Draco gathered she was taking Astronomy. Jane motioned for him to come look through the eye piece. He saw four bright stars that created a trapezoid, and a trail of more stars connected to it, like a tail.

"What exactly am I looking at?" he tried to see if he could remember the constellation, but his memory was fuzzy.

"Draco the Dragon," Jane replied. Draco looked away from the sky to see if she was kidding, but her emotionless demeanor told him otherwise.

The Slytherin Prince turned his attention back to the telescope, "What's its story?"

Jane stepped from the tool to see the heavens through her own eyes. As she told him the story, her voice remained lax and full of wonder he'd never heard before, "The Roman myths say the dragon was named Ladon. He guarded the golden apples on the tree in a garden tended by the Hesperides, the daughters of Atlas. Hercules was sent to get one of the apples as part of his twelve labors. He couldn't take them himself, so he had to get Atlas to help him. Hercules shot and killed Ladon with an arrow while Atlas plucked a golden apple. The goddess Hera was distressed by the death of the dragon, so she placed him in the heavens,"

Draco glanced to the girl. She looked so innocent when talking about something as common as stars. He could almost forget she was nothing more than just another girl at Hogwarts, "What other myths do you know?" he inquired.

For the next hour or two Jane showed him all the formations they could see for the season and described their stories, most of them being animals that were cast into the heavens by grieving gods, or great heroes who had done marvelous deeds. Draco let himself be entertained by the ancient myths and the way she lost herself when telling them.

"You know, this is the first time I've talked to you without screaming at you?" she realized.

He couldn't help himself. Draco's signature smirk made its appearance, "Are there any constellations about blood traitors?"

"You just  _had_ to ruin it, didn't you?" she groaned.

"It's your fault," he snickered, "You provoked me,"

Jane rolled her eyes, "You're the worst. Stupid Slytherin,"

"Us Slytherins are quite intelligent and ambitious, I'll have you know," Draco retorted, sending her a look of supremacy.

"Ambitious? Yeah, I can see that. Intelligent? I don't think so," Jane responded.

His expression dropped and he narrowed his eyes, "You'll pay for that one later, Rodgers,"

Jane scoffed, "I'm sure I will, but it will be pathetic," she yawned and rolled her shoulders, pushing herself from the bar and turning to leave. Draco didn't say or do anything to keep her there, only watched as she descended the stairs without a word. He looked back to the firmament and sighed.

The first time they talked without yelling or hexing. Just a bit of teasing. And it felt . . . nice.

Draco slapped himself hard in the face. Merlin, what was he thinking? He couldn't have actually  _enjoyed_ talking to this psycho bitch. She was a Gryffindor; not that she cared. Any kind of relationship between a Gryffindor and Slytherin was forbidden.

_Whoa, hold on a second,_ he thought,  _Were you just thinking of having a_ relationship _with her? As in a_ legitimate relationship?

He couldn't risk getting attached to her. It was his mission to kill her, and he wouldn't be able to do that. Draco needed to get his head back in the game, or else.

_But keep going with this fake friendship idea. Gain her trust, betray her, kill her. Simple._

As Jane walked in the darkened pathways, she lifted her hand from her wrist. The cut dried, and blood caked her palm. Feeling sudden tears prick in her eyes, she sighed and continued her journey back to the common room.

 


	16. Let the Games Begin

No matter how many times Crabbe and Goyle asked, Draco wouldn't tell them his plan, and yet they blindly followed his orders. Because of the previous walk-in incident, he stole some Polyjuice potion from Slughorn's office and made the two goons drink it. They took on a different identity every time he went into the Room of Requirement and stood outside the entrance. If someone was in the hall, Crabbe or Goyle would drop whatever they were holding to warn him not to come out.

"But if Jane Rodgers comes by, you make yourself scarce and come back when she's nowhere in sight," Draco ordered.

"Why is she an exception?" Goyle asked stupidly.

"Because I said so, you insufferable git,"

Besides that, he was making no progress on the mending. The damn thing was so temperamental! When he fixed one thing, something else went wrong. He took one step toward victory, and ended up two steps back. He couldn't eat, even though he was starving, he couldn't sleep, even though he was dead tired. This cabinet was taking up all his energy. Draco thought about quitting a few times. But Malfoys don't quit. On anything, especially not on taking down their enemies.

With the Vanishing Cabinet on his mind, as it always was, Draco walked into History of Magic twenty minutes late. No one noticed as he slipped into his desk, not even Jane, who had her eyes half closed and her chin resting on her desk. He could skip this class and no one would notice. At the scrape of his chair, she blinked out of her reverie and turned her head to look at him, the side of her face pressed against the wood. She rolled her eyes before closing them, "Aww, I thought I was gonna have a nap in class today,"

"And you can't do that with me here?" he murmured, arching a fine white blonde eyebrow as he flashed an amused smirk.

Jane yawned and rubbed the lower lids of her eyes, "No, cause nothing is peaceful when you're around,"

"As it should be," Draco sighed contently as he kicked up his feet, "I bring excitement with my presence alone,"

"The only excitement you bring is when someone punches you for being a dick,"

Draco's eyes narrowed into slits and he spat at her, "Blood Traitor Assassin,"

"Ignorant pureblood," her insult didn't sound as threatening as it should have been with her slurred voice. Her eyes fluttered completely closed and in a few short minutes she was sound asleep. Draco slumped in his own seat and leaned his head back to stare up at the ceiling. This was a complete waste of his time. He shouldn't be here. He should be fixing that cabinet. He should be getting on with his mission. Draco glanced over at Jane from the corner of his eye. She'd been to the Room of Requirement a total of six times. Jane knew he was fixing the cabinet. But she had no clue he was plotting her assassination. He smirked at the irony.

Seeing as there was no point in sitting there any longer, Draco gathered his things and walked out of the class. No one noticed him leave.

* * *

"Oh my Merlin, he is just the sweetest boy I've ever met," Lavender swooned, stretching out over her scarlet covers, "You know, he told me I was the most beautiful girl he's ever seen?"

"Congratulations," Hermione muttered under her breath, "You're the fifth girl he's told that too," Jane suppressed a snort and cast her friend an incredulous look. She'd never heard Hermione make a sarcastic remark. Jane's attitude must have been rubbing off on her.

"Lav, you are so lucky," Pavarti sighed.

"She's lucky alright," Jane whispered, "Lucky I don't beat her. Can't they talk about something else besides boys?"

"Hey, what do you think of the Ravenclaw boy in our Divination class?" Pavarti asked, leaning close to her girly friend like it was a secret question, "Do you think he likes me?"

"Apparently not," Jane groaned, falling back onto her bed and slapping her arm over her eyes.

"Oh stop whining, Jane," Lavender directed her attention to the girl two beds from her, "Just because you can't get a guy doesn't mean you can't make the rest of us miserable,"

Jane shot up from her bed with her lips pursed angrily, "Please, I can have any damn boy in this school I want, Lavender. Have you seen me? I'm probably the hottest girl here,"

"Sure, keep telling yourself that," Lavender retorted. But Jane could see the green-eyed monster poking through her unimpressed mask as her roommate surveyed Jane's looks. Finding her now unworthy of her time, Lavender turned back to Pavarti and began a heated conversation, no doubt about that Ravenclaw boy.

A sudden  _tap tap_ on the window pane made all the girls look up. It was too dark outside, but Jane could see the faint outline of a bird in flight. She slid off the edge of her bed and went to unlatch the window. Her pet owl, Blythe, swooped in and landed on the headboard of her bed, his feathers ruffled from the strong wind outside.

"Hey little guy," Jane cooed as she returned to her bed, "What are you doing here?"

Then she noticed he had a small note tied to his leg. While stroking back the owl's brown and white feathers, she removed and unrolled the note.

_Come to the Room of Requirement._

There was only one person the note could be from.

Blythe nipped gently at the pads of her finger while Jane reread the sentence.  _Now_  he wanted her to come? Wasn't Draco the one who told her never to come back there? Her mind had a fit of thoughts over the possible outcomes to this. It could be a trap, though for what she didn't know. To humiliate her? If he wanted to do that, wouldn't he do it in a much more populated place than a junk room? To curse her? She could out-curse him any day of the week. Those were the cons. The pros? At the moment she couldn't think of anything. And even though there were none, Jane left Gryffindor Tower, her wand firmly by her side.

There were two people standing on either side of the wall when she arrived. One was a first year Hufflepuff boy, the other a second year Ravenclaw girl. Standing in the middle of the hallway, she wasn't too sure what to do until the boy and girl walked passed her and down a staircase, leaving her all alone. Jane counted a few minutes past before accessing the Room of Requirement.

* * *

This was insane. Inviting her to help him mend this confounding contraption? Or at least sit with him? Talk to him? Merlin, it was the worst plan he'd ever come up with. But she wasn't going to go away, he knew that, and she was interested in this cabinet. If Draco could con her into aiding him in her own assassination, it would be a perfect act of infidelity and sardonicism.

The Slytherin Prince heard footsteps approaching and tensed slightly. They slowed the closer they got. Draco glanced into the mirror of a vanity on his left. He watched Jane cautiously emerge from the shadows, stopping just inside the circle of light. He made no move to face her, and didn't speak upon her arrival, but inwardly smirked. The poor girl was falling right into his trap, and she didn't even notice.

_Poor girl my ass,_ he thought,  _She deserves what's coming to her. This revenge will be sweet as honey._

That's exactly what this was. Revenge for his father. She should be dead, not him. His father should be alive at the Manor taking care of his mother, not buried six feet under and pushing up daisies.

"What happened to my father?" he couldn't bear to look at her, so he watched her reaction in the mirror.

Jane bit her lip and locked her eyes on the floor. He deserved to know, she knew he did. But in the question, she was reminded that Draco Malfoy was the son of a Death Eater. Lucius Malfoy certainly knew who she was. Necessarily he told his family what his master sent him and hundreds of others to search for, right? As long as she knew Draco, however, he never gave the clue that he knew her true character. Only that she did his father in. If he wasn't aware, how could she explain it to him with enough tact so she didn't reveal anything?

His voice disturbed her thoughts, his tone indulgent, "He left one morning right after breakfast. Didn't tell us where he was going, only that it was a very important job for the Dark Lord, and he didn't come back that night, or the next. It was a week after his disappearance when we finally heard something about him. My Aunt Bellatrix told us a girl named  _Jane Rodgers_  killed him and seven others, and she got away,"

Draco stared unseeingly at his enemy's reflection, the memories of that time flooding him. He remembered sitting at the dining table during the Easter holidays waiting for his dad to come home, staring out the window in the parlor for a sign of him, and watching his mother pace in front of the fire place with her hands pressed to her heart. Then he watched as she broke down into tears when her sister barged into their home and told the story of his demise. And without so much as time to protest, Bellatrix swept Draco away to substitute his father as the Death Eater of the Malfoy family.

Okay, so if he was telling the truth, he was uninformed. Check that off the list. Jane felt her head reeling, and she hadn't spoken once. The scars on her body suddenly burned with remorse. Rubbing the ones on her wrist, she leaned against a wall of books and took a deep, shuddering sigh. Several times she opened her mouth, but no words came out. Swallowing hard, Jane forced her voice.

"I walked into an area with a Caterwauling Charm one night in April and they started chasing me. I had almost gotten away when I tripped. Your dad caught me and tried to tug me back to the Death Eaters. I wrestled myself from him, but they had already closed in. There was no way out. I . . . knew where they were going to take me, and I wasn't about to go with them. So I . . . killed them,"

Draco measured her explanation and composure with calculating eyes. She sounded unbearably guilty, but looked like she was talking about something as simple as the weather. Jane could make an excellent Death Eater if she lost the wimpy tone. On the other hand, weightlessness came over him, along with many more questions. Why chase her? What was so special about her?

He'd get her to tell him soon enough, whether it was by frightening her, or charming her skirt off.

"Draco?" she whispered, "Draco, say something, please,"

An unwilling shiver was sent down his spine, "Why do you call me that?" he breathed too low for her to hear.

"What?"

"Why do you call me that?" he asked a tad louder. In the mirror he saw her turn towards him, an eyebrow quirked.

"Because it's your name?" she reasoned.

"My first name is stupid," Draco spat, his eyes hardening, "Everyone calls me Malfoy,"

Jane stared at him with an emotionless expression, her arms crossed over her chest. She whispered, "I like your name,"

Bewilderment made him turn to her at last. She must have been joking, no one of sane mind could favor his name except his parents. But no, she was completely serious, "Why? Because it's tied to some lame bunch of stars?"

Jane shook her blonde head and didn't elaborate, only repeated, "I like your name,"

A leaded silence shadowed as they were consumed in their own thoughts. Jane moved vigilantly to sit on top of a large wooden crate, pulling her knees up to her chest. She could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of her head, so she let her own slip to his.

"What exactly are we doing here?" she inquired.

That was a good question.

"This won't work out, you know," he stated, though it seemed to be directed towards himself more than her, "You and I . . . being . . . after all, you're in Gryffindor, and I'm a Slytherin. There's also the fact that you killed one of my parents. And let's not forget that we can hardly stand each other. I don't know how we can coexist peacefully without hexing one another,"

Jane blinked, mutely bearing in mind his words, and said, "You look like you could use a friend,"

Draco snorted derisively, "And you, of all people, are going to offer me that luxury?" she didn't answer him. He raked a hand through his blonde locks and twisted to face the cabinet, "I don't need friends,"

"Everyone needs a friend," said Jane, "And maybe someday you'll want one,"

Draco lifted his eyes to the mirror. No, friends weren't something he wanted, or needed. They were people you got attached to, and would one day be gone. A war was coming. Everyone he knew might be dead by next year. He couldn't be bothered to spend his precious time bonding with a person who wouldn't be there when he needed them most.

Shaking these awful views from his head, Draco brought a hand up to rub his chin absently. This was it. There was no turning back.

"Let the games begin," he murmured.

* * *

The games included nights spent in the Room of Requirement, and a few rare nights in the Astronomy tower. Sometimes these nights were spent in hush, and other times they idly chatted. But most of the time they bickered and teased mercilessly, as they regularly did during the day time. Jane told no one of Draco's secret project, and when Harry obsessed about Draco and his whereabouts, she dismissed his theories, although she was still suspicious of Draco, him being the son of a Death Eater and all. She did not fully trust him – actually, she didn't really trust him at all. Nor he her, she perceived.

"I still don't get why you're trying to mend that," said Jane one evening. Draco sat on the floor as he mended it while she laid stomach down on the crate not seven feet from him. Draco only cast her a brief, hard look and she dropped the question, choosing to ask another, "Do you think you can do it?"

"Of course I can," he uttered with confidence, "I can fix this. I can do anything," then he stood and turned to her, hand outstretched, "Apple,"

Jane picked the red fruit from the corner of the crate and tossed it to him. He unfastened the door of the Vanishing Cabinet and put the apple on the floor. Taking his wand out, Draco closed his eyes and whispered the password.

_"Harmonia Nectere Passus,"_

The words matched with his breathless tone made goose bumps pop up on Jane's skin, and she shuddered. A small whoosh sounded within the cabinet. It was empty.

_"Harmonia Nectere Passus,"_

Nothing.

_"Harmonia Nectere Passus,"_

Still nothing. Draco checked inside the instrument but it remained vacant. He yelled in frustration and slammed the door shut. Jane winced at the loud sound and watched as he paced angrily. She folded her hands underneath her chin, "Can't you just use a Mending Charm?"

"The damn thing would be fixed if it was that simple," Draco snapped coldly, "Ravenclaw should consider themselves lucky you didn't end up in their House. Not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?"

"Well you definitely belong in Slytherin. You're as cold hearted as the rest of them. No wonder you don't have any friends,"

"Insolent witch,"

"Brazen pureblood,"

"Disgusting blood traitor!"

"Slimy ferret!"

With each insult he stepped close until he was directly in her face. Jane got to her knees in an attempt to make herself taller on top of the crate, but he was still a good half head taller. He stared at her through slits for eyes and his perfect white teeth exposed menacingly, making his face pinch. She once again found herself intimidated by the boy that held no danger to her.

"The only way anyone would ever want you is dead!" he snarled, his hands clutching the edge of her perch hard enough to make the bone of his knuckles show.

"That means a whole lot, coming from you! How many people are lined up to punch you in the balls right now?" Jane shouted.

"Probably as many people as you have in your line for doing in their family members!"

Jane should have known that when she pulled out her wand to hex him that he would disarm her in a nanosecond, and she would have, if her brain weren't clouded with rage. Draco taunted her with his tallness as he held her weapon high above Jane's head.

"I hate it when you do this!"

"Why do you think I keep going it?" he cackled. Jane gripped the collar of his black robes and jerked it down, making him at least a few inches shorter, but not helping her in the slightest, because when she did so her wand fell from Draco's hand and started to roll away.

Jane wobbled on her knees and fell forward, throwing her arms over her face and waiting for impact. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, leaving Jane to hang in midair. She twisted herself to look up at him. Draco's pointed features were not creased in spite as they were just a second ago. He was quiet as his eyes grazed over her, a concealed emotion held in them. Her petite hands gripped his broad shoulders while she hovered over the floor, and she could swear she felt his hold on her tighten.

And then a wicked gleam leaked into his gaze and he dropped her. Jane fell with a deafening thud, her legs dangling in the air and head promptly aching. A fire of indignation ignited in her at hearing Draco's maniacal laugh. Jane glared up at him and, hooking her foot around his ankle, she heaved and brought him down, hearing a satisfying crack as his head too hit the floor. Draco grunted as he sat up, rubbing the back of his head. The antagonism came back to his face.

"You'll pay for that one, Rodgers," he spat.

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll pay for a lot of things," Jane got to her feet and went off on an expedition for her wand.

* * *

"So you never answered my question,"

"What question?"

"The deal with the Houses? The relationships and stuff? It makes no sense,"

"I guess it would to an outsider,"

Jane rolled over on her back and stared up at the high ceiling, her arms crossed behind her head, "I've heard the stereotypes. Gryffindors are brave. Hufflepuffs are kind. Ravenclaws are smart. And Slytherins are cunning,"

These were all true as far as the four Houses went, but looking at them through fresh eyes, Jane saw more. She saw Gryffindors as daring and chivalrous students that wouldn't stand down against evil, and were also hot-headed, their courage sending them to a point of rashness and pointless heroics. When she saw a Hufflepuff, she described them as hard working, loyal, and honest, holding a fair amount of tolerance to the other houses, but a bit of pushovers and too modest for their own good.

She saw Ravenclaws as quirky and eager to learn anything and everything, striving for success, their desire to get top marks great enough that they back stabbed their fellow House members in order to do it. Jane once asked how come Hermione hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw, being the smartest witch of their age. Hermione said that the Sorting Hat did consider putting her in that house, but saw a bravery in her that she didn't. And when she looked at a Slytherin, she saw a group of strong leaders, ambitious, resourceful, and determined, nonetheless valued blood purity and power over all else.

The houses didn't matter to Jane. They were just another way of setting people apart.

"So what's the deal with the Houses?"

Draco lifted himself onto the crate beside her laying form, bringing one knee to his chest and letting the other dangle over the side, "There's three types of relationships really,"

"Start with Gryffindor. I already know they hate Slytherins,"

Draco nodded at this correct statement, "Gryffindors seem to be friends with the Hufflepuffs, or at least they don't have any problems with them, and are indifferent to Ravenclaw,"

"What about Hufflepuff?"

"Got the same relationship with Gryffindor. They are unconcerned about Slytherins, and not too fond of Ravenclaws. Not exactly enemies, but Hufflepuffs have a dislike for them,"

"Ravenclaw?"

"Those bird brains have no opinion on Hufflepuffs, and aren't too fond of you attention hogs, yet still side with you against Slytherin," Draco made a face of contempt at the detail.

"And Slytherin?"

His frown was switched for a smirk of superiority, "We loathe you Gryffindorks, obviously. I _guess_ we're friends with Ravenclaw; at least we can stand them. And we don't care either way for those loser Hufflepuffs,"

Well, it was good to know where she stood with the other houses. The rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, however, she didn't understand. When she asked him, his response was to tell her he wasn't an encyclopedia and he went back to fixing his cabinet.

"If Gryffindors and Slytherins are enemies, then how come we're here?" she asked.

To this question he didn't respond.

* * *

If you hadn't known better like Jane had, you would've thought Draco incapable of harming others when looking at him while he slept.

Pure exhaustion swept him away at last and he fell asleep right there on the floor. Jane, so preoccupied with thoughts about Voldemort and her own safety, didn't acknowledge this until she looked over at him and found Draco curled up on his side.

She crouched beside him, intending to wake him, but the sight of his innocence froze her. Draco's fine, sharp features were slack with no trace of a mocking sneer or superior smirk, looking peaceful in slumber. The longer he rested the more of his tension left. The tightness of his body loosened, allowing him into more comfortable positions. His pale skin seemed almost transparent in the only light provided by the church-like windows. His hair matched the lightness of his skin, slightly tousled from his pulling at it in frustration. His long blonde eyelashes fluttered over his eyes, and his full sensuous lips were parted slightly.

Jane felt her cheeks and the back of her neck heat up as her gaze lingered on his lips a moment too long. Standing, she looked for some proper sleeping materials and found two clean blankets. One of them she draped over him, the other she balled up to make a pillow. Draco's face pinched up slightly as she lifted his head, strands of his hair falling over his eyes. Jane gently brushed them away, the tips of her fingers gliding over his cool forehead. Then she left to explore more of their hideout.

It was in a section of what appeared to be dragon eggshells, an enormous stuffed troll, and a cage containing a five legged skeleton where she found a particular item that excited her. Since Draco took up residence in what he called the Room of Hidden Things, Jane could not ask for a piano when she felt her temper reaching high levels. This instrument was a straight up style, white wood to match its white keys. There was no bench to go with it, so she had to find an unbroken stool. Jane tapped her fingers on a key to find it slightly out of tune, but easily overlooked. From memory she played a dawdling and appeasing song, pressing the keys softly as to not wake Draco.

That is what Draco woke up to as his eyes snapped open an hour or two later, the high blue ceiling being the first thing he saw. A small panic coursed in him. He fell asleep around Jane? She could have killed him! He sat up quickly and felt his body for any injuries, but found himself unharmed and confused as to how he fell asleep, and how a blanket ended up on him. The music was brought back to his attention as it increased in volume. Draco got to his feet, stumbled a bit from getting up too fast, and tracked the echoes of the song. He found Jane with her back to him, hands gliding over the instrument in an intricate way, and he stood in the shadows for a moment. She weaved the notes in a low and relaxed melody that created an uplifting sensation in him.

"You're quite good at that," he whispered loud enough for her to hear.

A wrong note was played, shattering the elegance of the moment. Jane turned on the stool with uncertain eyes and a small smile "Did Draco Malfoy just give me a compliment?"

A smirk pulled at his lips, "Don't expect it to happen again,"

Her smile grew the slightest and swiveled back to the instrument, staring up the song where she left off, "I thought you were asleep,"

"I was," Draco told her while making his way over and leaning against the side of the piano, "You woke me up,"

"Sorry,"

His eyes dropped to her fingers caressing the ivory and ebony keys. This part of the song was not as soft as the first part, and not as slow. She picked up the pace ever so slightly, and still made it elegant enough to, for example, be played at a wedding, "Do you sing as well?"

"Pfft. No way," Jane shook her head, keeping her eyes on her ministrations, "Can't carry a tune to save my life,"

_Remember that,_ Draco made the mental note.

The musician ended her song and looked up to the boy standing by her side. The dark bags under his eyes had lightened due to his nap, but he was still too thin to be healthy, "You're too thin," she told him quietly.

"Isn't that a good thing in America?" the British boy scoffed.

Jane reached out and pushed aside the body of his black jacket, her hand resting on his chest. His breath hitched slightly, but he did not move away. Draco looked into her eyes and saw worry, "Not this thin. I can see your ribs. This thing you're working on is taking its toll on you,"

Then he did push her away, straightening out his clothes and brushing off invisible dust, "I don't need you worrying about me,"

* * *

This time he used a bird.

"Draco, you can't do that! You don't know what will happen," Jane protested.

"It will be fine, Rodgers," Draco decided as he stroked the small feathers of the animal he held gently in his hands. She followed him through the maze that was the Room of Requirement, objecting all the way.

"Where did you even get it? They've all flown south for the winter,"

"Bird cage in the Hall of Hexes," he answered tonelessly. Stopping at their destination, he unlatched the door of the cabinet and let the little bird hop in. It sat there happily and unaware, tweeting its song, which became muffled when Draco closed the door.

"I'm so close," he muttered, "I can feel it,"

"How can you tell? It always looks the same to me,"

Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance, "I'm smarter than you, that's why,"

Her retort was interrupted by the whooshing sound that accompanied the workings of the Vanishing Cabinet sounded, even though Draco had not said the password. The two looked to the cabinet, and Draco raised an eyebrow in misperception and looked inside, finding it empty. Drawing his wand, he pressed its tip to the surface of the wood.

_"Harmonia Nectere Passus,"_ he mumbled. Nothing for a few minutes, and the whistling repeated itself. He hurried to open the contraption, and gasped when he looked at its bottom.

The bird was dead.

Jane observed with awe as his face fell, the corners of his mouth drooping and his eyes shining with gloom, his bottom lip quivering. He just stared at the tiny animal's body. It was almost heart breaking to see him be dejected about something. Trying to do something to help, she took a step to him and whispered, "I passed a little garden in here yesterday. We could bury it there,"

Unable to speak, he nodded. Jane opened the cabinet wider, scooped up the bird, and left him to look at the empty floor. Her throat tightened when, a few isles away, she heard him sob.

 


	17. All Part of the Plan

Christmas could not have come soon enough for Jane. A mix of snow and rain fell from the seasonal light grey sky. Hagrid could be seen dragging enormous pine trees through the halls, setting them up in the Great Hall and along wide corridors. The teachers decorated these trees with a variety of beautiful ornaments, golden bubbles, and angel tree toppers. Wreaths were hung on every door, and tinsel was strung over their heads.

Not all the adornments were pleasing as the rest. A charm was cast so that mistletoe popped up in the main halls. While some didn't mind this tradition, Jane stuck to Harry and Ron to find alternative routes to their classes, though this did not always work out. Lavender would whisk Ron away every time she saw him to find as many mistletoe as she could, and Jane had a few close calls.

Like now, for example, as she went on her way to lunch and bumped into Cormac McLaggen. A sprig of green leaves and red berries magically grew above them. Jane, her shoulders slumping as she groaned, looked at the mistletoe like it was death itself.

"Its bad luck if you don't kiss under mistletoe," McLaggen informed her, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Of course he'd have no problem with it; he was about to kiss a hot girl.

Draco watched from the bottom of the stairs with Pansy in his arms as Jane reluctantly puckered up. His eyes narrowed into slits and his jaw clenched, strangely finding himself possessive over her. His grip on Pansy tightened painfully as McLaggen went in for the kill.

"Ouch! Malfoy, you're hurting me!" Pansy cried. Draco tore his gaze from the sight and loosened his hold on his fellow Slytherin.

"Sorry," he muttered through his teeth. He looked back to see Jane climbing down the stairs, leaving McLaggen smirking at the top. She thoroughly wiped at her mouth with her sleeve.  _At least she didn't enjoy it,_ he thought.

Still wiping her mouth, Jane lowered herself into a seat besides Harry, "I hate mistletoe," she stated.

"Got caught?" Harry asked with a tone of amusement.

"With McLaggen," she felt like puking. No matter how cute he was, the boy was a terrible kisser. Jane grabbed a goblet and poured water into it, intent on washing the taste of him away. From the corner of her eye she saw Draco and Pansy enter and take their seats at one of the ends of the Slytherin table.

"Better you than me," Hermione gave her an apologetic look, patting her hand lightly.

"Did you guys get caught under any mistletoe?" Jane asked.

They didn't have time to tell her of their kissing misfortunes as McGonagall clinked the side of her glass with a spoon from the teacher's table. It took a few tries, but the students finally hushed so she could speak.

"May I have your attention?" she announced loudly to drown out the last of the talkers, "On Christmas Eve, Hogwarts will have its own ball for students staying at the school over the holidays,"

This brought up a wave of excited whispers and dreaded moans from the students staying for Christmas, Jane being among the later.

The professor tapped her goblet to regain silence,"The headmaster feels that . . . because of the current situation . . . you deserve a bit of fun. Therefore, the doors to the Great Hall will open at 8:00 PM and the ball will end at the stroke of midnight. Formal robes are required for entrance, and dance lessons are open to everyone in the courtyard every weekend,"

"She's joking, right?" Jane retorted as the noise started up again, "A dance at this time? Why not invite the Death Eaters to come waltz with us,"

"I think they're just trying to calm everyone down," Hermione theorized as she scooped a helping of beans onto her plate, "To give them something else to worry about besides the war,"

"Glad I'm not going," said Harry, "Ron and I are spending the holidays at the Burrow, and even if we weren't I sure as hell wouldn't go to another dance after how bad the Yule Ball was,"

"You staying, Hermione?"

She shook her bushy head, and Jane let out a groan through her frowned mouth, "Great, I'll be all alone. What are balls like? I've never been to one,"

"Much different than your American dances I expect," Harry answered.

"Oh, if only I wasn't going home for the holidays," Pansy whined, "Then you and I could go to the ball together. Wouldn't that be just wonderful?"

Draco disagreed with his mind, body, and soul. Having gone with Pansy to one ball before and finding the experience displeasing and boring, he wasn't planning on asking her to another one. He thanked his lucky stars they would be spending Christmas in their separate homes.

He stared at his plate of food. Draco's appetite had left him months ago, as well as the luxury of sleep and part of his sanity. For instance, he actually enjoyed the time he spent with Jane. They were the highlight of his day.

Movement was caught in Jane's peripheral. Draco stood up from his place with only a few words to Pansy Parkinson. Wrenching Crabbe and Goyle up from their seats, he dragged them out of the Great Hall. She waited ten minutes before saying goodbye to Harry and Hermione, taking a green apple before she went on her way. Jane was careful to take different ways to avoid any awkward mistletoe situations. Fate, however, was not on her side that day as she met McLaggen  _again_  on a staircase between the sixth and seventh floor under the pesky little plant for the second time.

Draco heard her footsteps coming to him and he didn't flinch. She was muttering, and the closer she got the clearer they became.

"Stupid mistletoe. Stupid McLaggen," she came into view wearing an irked expression, her lips red and swollen. They weren't like that when he glanced at her over his shoulder as he left the Great Hall.

"Again?" he inquired, his tone bitter.

"The next time I'm under mistletoe, I'm punching the guy and running away," Jane slid onto her tall crate and held her chin in her hands.

Draco made a snide comment to distract him from the desire to kill the prick, "What if you get caught with a girl?"

She shot him a dirty look, "Mind out of the gutter,"

He chuckled and hoisted himself onto the crate beside her. Jane surveyed him and his condition before taking the apple from her robes and handing it to him. Draco shook his head and gave it back, "I'm out of ideas to fix it," he explained.

Jane took his hand and put the apple firmly in it, "It's for you to eat, not to use in the cabinet. You need to eat, Draco,"

His eyes lingered on her and the fruit. Jane had genuine concern in her eyes, almost like she cared about him. Draco wondered if a murderer could possibly care for anyone. With a loud sigh he took the apple, and with a final glance to her he bit into it. Jane gave him a small satisfied smile.

"Are you staying over the holidays?" he asked as he chewed.

Jane shrugged, "I guess so. Don't have anywhere else to go. Are you?"

Draco wanted nothing more than to be home with his mother for the holidays. He worried about her morning, noon, and night. But if Jane was staying . . . this could be interesting, "Haven't decided yet," he finally said.

"Why would you?" she quirked an eyebrow, "Don't you want to be home with your mom?"

Draco cast his line for a quick lie and came up with, "It'd be nice, but mother can be a handful. Sometimes I just like to be alone," he had gotten to the core of his apple and threw the remains in a nearby fireplace. Then he started when Jane slid off the crate and went for the exit, "Where are you going?"

"I only came to check on you," she called while she kept walking. Draco slid off the crate and walked after her as she continued to explain, "If you're not working, then there's really no reason to be here,"

The two reached the double wooden doors. A loud crash came from outside just as Jane reached for its handle. Draco, knowing what it meant, threw his arm around her waist and dragged her to him, "Wait," he hissed.

"What?" she asked, struggling in his grip.

"There's someone in the hall. If you leave now our cover will be blown," he clarified, "Just wait a few minutes,"

Albeit no one could hear them in the Room of Requirement from the outside, they stayed deathly silent. It gave Jane time to focus on her other senses, such as touch and sound. Her back was pressed against his strong chest and he had both his arms around her. She could feel warm air on the back of her neck as he breathed. And as she got a whiff of the scent that was him, muted because of the cold, Jane found herself leaning back into his touch. The act directed Draco's attention to her, which had recently been on his ears straining to hear whatever was going on outside.

_Wouldn't it be fun to mess with her?_ he thought,  _To derail those teenage emotions? All part of the betrayal._

At the sight of reddening in her cheeks, Draco smirked wolfishly and put his lips right up against her ear, "Is there a problem, Rodgers?" he whispered in a silky voice.

Jane licked her lips, about to speak, but then his hands were roaming over her body. Draco nipped and licked at her earlobe, finding satisfaction as she tried to suppress a debauched moan. His lips trailed from her ear down to her neck, planting hot, languid kisses on her skin, making her shiver and her breath hitch.

"Draco -" Jane gasped. What on Earth was he doing? This shouldn't be happening. This stage in their relationship ended so long ago, and it hadn't even begun. It was wrong, but it felt so right for him to touch her like this. Nevertheless, it needed to stop. Somehow, and he wasn't sure how, but somehow she managed to expertly wiggle from his grip.

"Slippery little minx, aren't you?" he teased in a velvet voice as he tried to catch her again, "Come on, Rodgers, just one little kiss. I could make you forget all about that blasted McLaggen,"

It was a game, she convinced herself. It had to be another one of his games. Draco was all about his games. Well, Jane was just as skilled in this kind of game as he was. She could play too.

The response that followed stirred a need of physical contact with her. Jane peered at him through long eyelashes and wearing a mischievous expression. She parted her lips ever so slightly. They begged him for a kiss, but the words that passed through them hinted otherwise, "It's a matter of self-preservation. Honestly Draco, do you have any idea where Pansy's been?"

"No," he answered truthfully, his eyes narrowing in amusement, "And I don't know where McLaggen's been either. But I'm willing to risk it for the greater good,"

Jane  _laughed._ Not the timid chuckle she typically gave; a full laugh that opened her mouth wide to show off her perfect teeth. It sounded like happy little bells, a noise that Draco precipitously craved to hear for hours. Still laughing, Jane exited the Room of Requirement, leaving him to vow to make her laugh again in the future.

Before he killed her, that is.

 


	18. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF YOU ARE READING THIS: RETURN TO THE BEGINNING OF THE STORY. Several chapters have been combined to increase chapter length and decrease chapters themselves. Please go back to Chapter One. I can guarantee that you have missed a lot of events that have transpired in the story.
> 
> Hey, wanna see a picture of Jane Rodgers? My friend made one for me!! --> http://fav.me/d67lkta

Thunderstorms always excited Jane.

But tonight it only added to the terror.

It was the same nightmare she'd had since Snape confirmed Voldemort wanted her dead.

_"I know you're here somewhere,"_

_No matter where she turned inside the castle he was there. Maybe not physically, but his spiteful voice stopped her every move. The sky outside was dark and cloudy with no moon. The torches that hung on the walls weren't lit, and for some reason she couldn't remember the spell to conjure fire._

_She thought Hogwarts was supposed to be safe._

_"I need you Janie,"_

_Her heart rate increased and she ran faster. Turning a corner, Jane tried to peer through the darkness for something to help her. A spell written on the walls, an emergency exit, a teacher, Dumbledore, Harry, anyone! Yet she saw nothing but the stone that confined her._

_"There's nowhere to hide,"_

_Jane wrenched open the first door she found unlocked and screamed when she found Voldemort on the other side. He was horrifying, more terrorizing than any creature in the world. He leered wickedly at her with slits for eyes. Jane turned on the spot and bolted in another direction. There he was again at the end of the hallway. And again, floating outside a window. Again, at the bottom of the staircase._

_She thought he couldn't get to her here._

_"Come with me," he cooed. Jane slapped her hands over her ears, but his hiss of a voice drilled through, "Everything will be just as it was. You only have to come with me,"_

_"I didn't ask for this!" she screeched, "I never wanted this! Leave me alone! Let me go!"_

_"I can't do that. You know too much,"_

_"I hate you! I hate you! I didn't want this!"_

_She managed to find her way to the front doors. With panicked adrenaline rushing through her veins, Jane clutched the handle and pulled with all her might._

_"Get to the bridge, get to the bridge," she breathed. She didn't care what happened when she left the school, what she would do, or where she would go. All she knew was that she needed to get out. Her legs carried her without fail across the grounds to a long stone bridge. She was going to make it!_

_But wait – what was that up ahead?_

_Jane stopped short in the middle of the bridge. Bodies lay before her, their eyes open and glazed over with death, skin sagging and grey, blood oozing and chunks of muscle missing like they'd been bitten off. Her heart shattered when the first face she'd recognized was Hermione's. Then Draco's. Harry's. Ron's. Dumbledore's. As she looked further on, the number of bodies expanded. There were students she worked with in class, teachers she'd asked questions from, people she'd only greeted in the halls. Dead. All of them._

_"You see what you've done, Jane?" Voldemort's voice echoed, "This is your fault. They would not have perished if you left the school. They'd have stayed alive if only you departed sooner,"_

_She had no time to mourn before a new sound entered her ears. Jane turned swiftly to see Nagini slithering over the many bodies, looking hungrily at her. Jane couldn't move, couldn't scream. She was rooted to the spot; she would die like the rest._

The last thing Jane saw before she woke was the snake lunging at her.

She bolted upright, gasping for air and checking her surroundings. She was in the darkened dormitory, and the others had not awoken; they wouldn't have known she had a nightmare. When Jane had bad dreams she didn't scream or murmur. She would tense considerably, coil into a ball while her breathing grew uneven, but she never screamed.

A flash of light made her jump. Pushing the twisted sheets from her body, Jane went to the curtains that blocked the window, but stopped with fear. What if  _he_ was just outside? After a minute of straining her ears she concluded it was raining from the pitter patter of drops against the glass, and the crash of thunder that accompanied each flash of light.

She needed to get out of this room. Someplace still inside, but open. Jane quickly dressed in grey sweats and a dark blue T-Shirt and treaded out of the common room. Thankfully the torches were lit as the troubled girl travelled, ducking from any teachers on patrol. The nightmare's elements followed her: she could hear his voice in her ears, feel his eyes watching her every move.

Was she really safe here?

With that question in mind, she reached the bottom of the Astronomy tower and climbed up its many flights of stairs. The more time she spent in the school, the less faith she put in its defenses. Even if he had not fully regained his strength, the Dark Lord had plenty of power. Jane hated to admit it, but he matched Dumbledore's magic, almost exceeding it. How long would it be before –

Her thoughts ceased when she reached the top color and saw Draco Malfoy leaning against the rail, looking back at the sound of her footsteps. Her eyes grew wide in terror, jaw dropping and throat tightening unbearably.

"What are you doing up?" he asked with mild curiosity.

In her mind, still fogged with the nightmare, Jane saw his eyes hazed with demise, a painful expression on his face, his skin splattered with blood, and a few chunks of flesh missing from his torso. She blinked, but the image wouldn't go away.

"Rodgers?"

Not here. She couldn't be here. Jane spun on her heel and started down the spiral staircase.

"Hey, where are you going?"

She picked up her pace when she heard his footfalls tailing her, but didn't get far. Draco grabbed her wrist and pulled her to a halt, then took hold of the other one when she swung a fist at him. Jane struggled to get away, her limbs flailing.

"Rodgers," he vexed to gain her attention and keep her still at the same time, "Why are you looking at me as if I died? Rodgers?  _Jane!_ "

She quit her squirming in momentary astonishment at hearing her first name pass from his lips. Draco took this opportunity to pull her closer to him. Jane had enough stability to register that she could feel his heart beating.

_He's alive,_ she thought with some relief,  _It was just a dream._

"What's the matter?" he asked softly, and Jane was surprised for the second time in a minute. She could've been imagining it, but she swore she heard sincere worry in his tone. Draco had never been concerned about her.

"Nothing," she bidden to keep her voice steady, but he saw right through it. His clutch on her tightened as his eyes narrowed, daring her to lie to him again. She swallowed, "I had a nightmare, alright?"

Draco stared at her unseeingly. A nightmare, that was understandable. He'd had many of them in his past; some so real that when he woke up he still thought he was in one. That must be what was going on with Jane too. He wondered if he had something to do with them; she looked at him like he was a monster or something.

He was brought out of his wondering when Jane fraught again, and he took more time to study her. Blonde hair a mess, clothing askew, and her skin on fire, layered with sweat. Her attempts to get away from him were close to frantic.

"Let go of me," she begged.

"Not until you calm down," he disagreed.

"I  _am_  calm," Jane tugged harder. Draco tried to pull some idea to calm her down from his head . . . not because he cared, but because of the way her temper was. She could hurt someone, and the closest person was him. He was convinced that was his reason for trying to comfort her.

_But I have no idea how to do that,_ he thought.

He remembered in the earlier school years, when he spent more of his time with Pansy, Draco frequently comforted her when she was distressed; merely for the reason that he couldn't stand her incessant crying and fussing. All he had to do was hold her and she instantly calmed down. Jane wasn't crying, but she  _was_  distressed. Could the same technique work on her as well?

Jane felt him loosen his clutch on her, thinking he was going to let her go. Instead he slipped his arms around her waist in a light but firm hold. And that's all he did – hug her. Jane was so taken aback that she struggled even more, and this activity was soon given up as her vigor burned out like a wire in a light bulb. Her head rested against his chest, his heart thumping in her ear.

_He's alive. It was just a dream._

Jane shivered with dread as the cold rushed in,  _"But for how long?_ _"_ the voice questioned, injecting fear into her nerves,  _"How long will it be a dream before it becomes reality?"_

Her breath hitched as the dreaded thoughts flooded her. Seeking the first comfort she could find, Jane buried her face in his chest, and felt his arms tighten and his chin rest on the top of her head.

"Calm down," he whispered, his hand rubbing her back in measured and placid circuits, "It's okay," he was amazed to find that she fit quite well in his arms, like a perfect puzzle piece. Jane was the right height for him, and there wasn't awkwardness to the embrace, like there was with Pansy.

How terrible of him to compare hugging Jane to hugging Pansy. Jane was so much better.

Draco didn't know how long he held her, and he didn't care. Jane's sporadic breathing slowed to normal and her shaking stopped. It was raining harder now, the lightning appearing repeatedly. Jane closed her eyes against the bright flashes, but cringed every time there was thunder.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he murmured after her tenth time jumping.

She shook her mane of blonde hair and lifted her head from his chest. Draco's face softened from when she last saw it, and his eyes seared with an unknown intensity. The longer he looked at her with those penetrating metallic irises, the smaller she felt. Jane had to look away to keep herself from disappearing.

"Feeling better?" he asked quietly, sweeping a misplaced lock of hair behind her ear, a move so simple and tender that it shocked both of them.

Jane took a deep breath and nodded, "Thank you,"

And then he pressed his lips to her forehead in a light kiss that scorched her skin and sparked desire in her, "You're welcome,"

The realization of the position he was in dawned on him, and he dropped his arms. Jane abruptly felt cold and lonely without his presence. Wrapping her arms around herself to replace his, she stepped to the staircase and sat at the third to last step while her eyes stayed on him.

"What now?" he asked sort of exasperatedly.

Jane tilted her head to the side in thought, like a puppy would. She had never seen her friend be so kind to her, and on another note, she just thought of him as her friend.

"Is it possible to be friends with someone you know nothing about?" she wondered aloud.

The question threw him through a loop. Friends? Did she just say friends? How did that happen? All he did was tease her and fight with her. Surely you couldn't become friends with someone that way.

_Only with someone as strange as her,_ he thought. Draco looked out to the sky and stuffed his hands in his pockets, "I'm not a good friend to have,"

"How so?"

A smirk formed on his mouth as he thought of all the wonderful reasons he wasn't one of the good guys, "Haven't you heard, baby? I'm the baddest boy you'll ever meet in this terrible excuse for a school,"

At her chuckle Draco swung back to see an equal smirk on her own lips. Jane gazed at her with half lidded eyes and slightly pursed lips, "Haven't  _you_  heard, baby?" she mocked his previous statement, "I happen to like bad boys. Good guys are just so boring,"

He could get used to her calling him baby, "Is that why you chased after Blaise Zabini?" Draco took this as a chance to move toward her. Jane scoffed and rolled her eyes as he sat a step lower.

"He chased after me, not the other way around," she corrected, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, "Stupid proud purebloods,"

The Slytherin Prince ignored the jab and his smirk softened into a frown. He waited a while before asking, "You really don't know your blood?"

Jane didn't look particularly upset as she answered, "Never knew my parents, so I never knew what kind of blood I have,"

"That sounds terrible," Draco's face pinched up at the thought.

"No," she responded instantly with much force, "I'd rather not know that know and act superior that everyone else,"

A short silence followed her statement, "I wasn't talking about that," he insisted softly, "I meant not knowing your parents,"

"Well . . ." she cast her eyes to look down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes in distraction, "It's kind of hard to want to know someone that gave you up," then she gave him a curious glance, "You bully Harry about not knowing his parents,"

Draco huffed, "Bloody Potter is one of the most famous wizards in time, he's got friends, and tons of admirers, and he's favored by all the teachers in the school. Am I supposed to feel sorry that he doesn't have a mummy and daddy to fawn all over him too? Wouldn't want him to get too big headed,"

"He's not big headed," Jane argued.

She obviously hadn't been here long enough to see what he had during the last five years of school, so he dropped the subject. Another string of bright light burst from the black sky, followed by a clap of thunder. Jane tensed and unconsciously scooted closer to Draco, who placed a hand on her knee and gently rubbed his thumb over the grey material of her sweatpants.

"And by the way," he broke the silence, "I know as much about you as you do me,"

"That's because you won't let me in. You don't answer any of my questions,"

"Neither do you. Face it Rodgers, we're both defensive and neither one of us will let up. Might as well go along with it,"

Wishing he would call her by her name again, Jane exhaled in defeat, "Do you think we'll ever get over the whole fighting thing?

"Not a chance,"

 


End file.
